Mission 236: Ness of Mass Destruction

From Accct Wiki

Marth blinked and sighed to himself as he flipped to the next page of his fashion magazine. He glanced at Link, who was preoccupied with a paddleball. Marth raised an eyebrow with unconcern and then returned his attention to the flimsy magazine in his loosely-gripped hands. Link accidentally released the handle of the paddleball and tossed it gently across the room. Marth shifted his attention from the magazine to the paddleball skidding over the floor, and then to Link’s bewildered expression. After a moment of silence, he hurriedly sighed and inquired, “Are you going to pick that up?”

Link immediately stared at his questioner. “No,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. He hesitated as he conjured up a thought, and then held up an index finger to accompany his recovering smirk. “Let’s just have Falco pick it up!” He clapped his hands together repeatedly and then grinned as Falco appeared from the closet.

“What’ll it be?” Falco asked in frustration, strengthening his grasp upon the handle of his mop. “Did you spill your chocolate milk again?”

Link shook his head and merely pointed at the paddleball that had halted beside a counter. Falco narrowed his eyes in disgust and spat, “You’re not serious. You want me to pick up that paddleball because you’re too lazy to walk five feet and pick it up yourself?”

“Yeah,” Link answered, nodding heartily.

Falco laid his mop onto the floor and then strolled unthinkingly toward the object. He lifted it from the floor, turned impassively to face Link, and offered it carelessly with one feathery hand. When Link reached for his game, Falco swiftly retracted it and then forced it down onto his knee, where the wood snapped into two splintery portions, which he then held in the air in respective hands. Falco chucked the pieces to the floor and then proceeded to return to his closet.

Link stared vacantly at the splintered paddleball on the floor before him. He blinked and then bit his lip as he turned his head to glare at Falco. “You know,” he began, “I was borrowing that from Bowser. He’s going to be pretty mad when he finds out you broke his favorite game.”

Falco hesitated and then glanced away indiscreetly. Marth directed his gaze towards the Arwing pilot and cocked an eyebrow. Link nudged the ruined paddleball further toward the counter with his foot and then straightened the collar of his suit jacket, afterwards turning his head to grin at his colleague. “I wonder where Roy is,” he said as his hands descended to his sides once more. After Marth had shot an accusing glare at him, Link laughed nervously and continued, “You know, I think he might’ve mentioned something about going down to that jewelry store-”

Marth abruptly rose from his seat in the folding chair and tossed his magazine onto the desk, halting Link’s statement. “He wasn’t seriously going to do that, was he?” he questioned, infuriated.

“I think so, actually,” Falco interjected. Marth sneered at the intruder, and Falco coughed slightly.

“What in the world is Roy’s problem?” Marth continued, clenching his hands into fists. “He’s got serious mental issues, and he lacks consideration for anyone but himself!”

Link’s smile faded slightly. “Yes, Marth, you’ve been saying that for hours now… it was just when I told you that he went to the jewelry store that you got all riled up.”

Marth pouted and folded his arms as he shifted his weight to one leg. Falco stared at the swordsman’s awkward stance and pondered aloud, “Do you take ballet lessons, or something?”

Marth bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, which accompanied the faint red flush of his cheeks. “Go back into the closet until we actually need you!” he commanded, pointing furiously towards the open closet doors. Falco merely shrugged and strolled casually to the location where he had abandoned his mop, lifted it from the floor, and then proceeded into the closet, where he closed the doors behind himself, causing the room to fade into an uneasy silence. “Anyway,” Marth began, heaving a sigh at the end, “I just don’t see how Roy can be such a jerk.”

“I don’t know either,” Link replied, his smirk now a distant frown. “Why do you care so much all of a sudden, anyway?”

Marth’s eyes widened with indignation. “I’ve been saying that for days now,” he growled.

“Have you?” Link asked, tapping his finger to his chin thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, I must’ve lost interest at about the twenty-fourth time you said it.”

Marth sighed and then allowed his arms to descend to his sides, afterward raising them to chest level in sudden nonchalance. “Maybe Roy’s just getting on my nerves. Sorry, Link.” He glanced at Link, who was studying his fingernails. Marth narrowed his eyes and added, “I said, ‘Sorry, Link!’ ”

Link abruptly directed his attention toward his colleague. “Sorry for what? I told you – we didn’t need to raise that issue ever again.”

Marth’s arms collapsed to his sides as he stared at Link in blank confusion. “What issue?” he inquired, bewildered.

Link hesitated. “Oh, wait, that was with Yoshi. Never mind.”

Before Marth had an opportunity to unleash his puzzled response, the door abruptly swung open and collided haphazardly with the wall, revealing the ecstatic Roy in the doorway, standing with an exuberant smirk glossing his face. “You guys!” he cried with obvious enthusiasm. He hurriedly stepped inside the room, slamming the door closed with one arm afterward, and then halted beside his colleagues with a gradually widening grin.

Marth stared uninterestedly at the rapturous redhead. “What’s made your pants so tight today, Roy?” he questioned, folding his arms.

Roy disregarded his colleague’s comment and then reached into the pocket of his suit slacks. He swiftly unveiled a collection of paper bills while he formed a devious smirk. “Money!” he cried overzealously. “Money! Oh my God, I can’t believe it!”

Link stared in excitement, grinning himself. “Wow, Roy!” he cried, clasping his hands together as he raised his eyebrows with shock. “I’ve never seen that much money!”

“That’s because they won’t let you have bills larger than five!” Roy replied, still euphoric. He turned his head to face his other colleague and shouted, “Look, Marth! Money! Oh my God! Say it with me – ‘Oh my God!’ ”

“No,” Marth responded, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. He frowned and continued, “How much money exactly did you counterfeit, Roy?”

“I counterfeited nothing!” Roy answered, shaking his extended arm at his questioner. He glanced at Link, who was holding his fists up and shaking them vividly with excitement, and then directed his gaze back at Marth. “I went to the jewelry store and got Zelda’s stupid ‘ring’ appraised, and then I got it exchanged for cash!”

Marth’s eyes grew wide as his jaw fell open. “Roy, you inconceivable, heartless, inconsiderate jerk!” he shouted in frustration, pointing accusingly at his colleague. “What is wrong with you? That wasn’t your ring! Why the hell did you cash it? Zelda is going to need it back in order to pay you!”

“Screw Zelda!” Roy yelled, his wily smirk widening. “I just got fifty dollars!”

Link halted his energized movements, and Marth stared vacantly at Roy, mumbling, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marth’s expression faded into an uneasy agitation as he continued, “You exchanged a ring for fifty dollars? A ring that wasn’t yours… for fifty dollars?”

“Yeah!” Roy answered unthinkingly. “Two twenties and a ten! Isn’t that incredible? I thought it’d be worth more, but they said that the wear and tear on it was so bad that they couldn’t give me any more than fifty bucks for it!” He retracted his arm to his chest and restrained the collection of bills as his overzealous smirk faded into a content grin.

Marth scowled furiously. “The reason the wear and tear was so bad is because that was Zelda’s favorite ring! You got it exchanged for fifty dollars, so now how is she supposed to-”

“Fifty dollars!” Roy cried, lifting his head as a single tear streamed down his cheek. “I’ve never been so happy!”

Link allowed himself a moment to blink in hesitance, then turned his head to gaze at Marth, who had narrowed his eyes as he recalled something. Marth strolled towards the desk and lifted his abandoned fashion magazine to uncover an envelope. He lifted it and then grinned devilishly to himself as he sauntered towards Roy and offered it to his now confused colleague.

Roy stared at the envelope and perked up an eyebrow. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing with his injured hand at the envelope.

“It’s the bill from the hair salon for putting a hole in their wall,” Marth answered through a malevolent smirk.

Roy huffed and snatched the object, ripped one side of it, and then lifted the folded paper out of the ripped envelope. He unfolded the paper and then scanned it, grasping it in frustrated hands. Suddenly, he gawked, “One hundred and sixty-three bucks? What the…?”

Link ambled toward Roy and then peered over his colleague’s shoulder at the bill. “You forgot the twenty-six cents,” he added innocently.

“B-But this is more than I make in a month!” Roy said solemnly, wincing.

“That’s more than you’ve made, ever,” Marth interjected. With an acute grin left upon his face, he grasped the paper and its accompanying envelope from Roy in one swift motion and suspended it within the air, explaining, “We’re going to have to put that fifty dollars towards this bill, you realize, Roy.” He glared accusingly, though smugly, at his colleague and added, “If you don’t, they’ll keep sending you bills that get larger as more time passes without having the bill be paid off.”

Roy whimpered slightly, but then scowled and jammed the three paper bills into his pocket, shouting in frustration, “Screw that! I’m not paying those losers a dime!” He scoffed and continued, “I’d do anything but pay them!”

An unsettling silence followed. “Anything,” Roy repeated, a slightly worried expression appearing across his face.

Link bit his lip. “Even-”

“Anything,” Roy interrupted, nodding.

Marth rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the abrupt ring of the lonesome telephone sitting upon the nearby desk. Roy’s facial expression instantly altered into one of surprise as he bolted for the telephone and lifted it, answering nervously, “Hello, you’ve reached Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated. You’ve got a job, and we need one. How may we help you today?”

“H-Hello,” came an apprehensive, high-pitched voice. “I – uhh…”

Roy pouted and bantered, “Come on, stutter boy, we don’t have all day!”

There was a clicking noise from the opposite end of the line. Roy slammed the telephone into its receiver and grimaced, “Darn it, I said no one was going to ever hang up on me ever again!” He lifted up the telephone once more and then repeatedly forced it powerfully into its receiver. “How do you like it?” he shouted, cackling devilishly. “I’ll teach you people to hang up on me! Just you wait until I get back from my A.A. meeting later tonight!”

Link continued to bite his lip as he witnessed Roy’s erratic behavior. Roy grimaced and eventually slammed the telephone into its receiver for a concluding time, and then immediately glowered at his colleagues. As Roy approached them, Marth adjusted his dress shirt’s collar and glanced at Link, who began biting his nails. Roy halted before his colleagues, eyeing alternately each of them in smug accusation. He placed his hands behind his back and then strode back and forth in front of them, until he eventually halted before Link and stared at the elf vacantly. Link continued to chew his nails nervously and stared at Roy directly. Roy nodded once, and then irately shouted, “Stop chewing your nails!”

Link instantaneously dropped his hand to his side and continued to stare at Roy. After a moment of silence, Roy nodded and smiled, “Thank you. The last thing we need is to have your shredded nail clippings everywhere. It creates more work for Falco to do, which he’ll then expect me to pay him for.”

Marth blinked. “Roy, are you feeling alri-”

“No, I’m not feeling alright!” Roy interjected in fury, pointing his injured hand at his fellow swordsman. “How would you feel if I just walked out of the room right now, and you would be deprived of my brilliant brilliance?”

Marth attempted to restrain himself from smiling. “Actually, I’d feel a lot bet-”

“No one cares what you think!” Roy shouted, pressing his available hand against Marth’s chest and forcefully shoving him backwards. “I am having my mood swings right now! Do not answer my questions! Is that understood?”

An awkward silence followed, and Roy cried in aggravation, “Damn it, when I ask a question, I expect an answer!”

Marth took a step forward and clasped his hands together at his waist as he watched Roy pace the floor in annoyance. He glanced at Link and then whispered, “Why don’t we make a run for it?”

“The door’s too far away,” Link retorted, frowning. “I’m not going to run that far.”

Roy gradually slowed his pace to a casual stroll, and eventually stopped his walk cycle before Marth. He inhaled promptly, and then exhaled as he turned his head to glare impassively at Marth. “Alright… I think I’m okay now.”

Marth cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry if I’m being too forward, Roy, but what in the hell was that all about?”

Roy stared at his questioner but remained silent. Link conjured up a solution and interjected, “Maybe he’s PMS-ing!”

“That’s stupid, Link!” Roy cried, waving his arm in disapproval. “Try PDS-ing.”

“What does that stand for?” Link asked.

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you want to know?” he questioned, his grin cringed from a cynic spasm.

Marth, sensing the developing tension, interrupted, “Hey, Roy, who was that on the phone?”

“I don’t know,” Roy replied, “but who cares? The squealing punk will call back, I’m sure! Then, I can…” He trailed off in his sentence and allowed himself a moment for his breathing exercises, mumbling, “Remember what the doctor said…”

Marth forced a nervous smile and discreetly glanced at Link. “You know,” he whispered hoarsely through clenched teeth, “it’s not too late to make a run for it.”

“But these dress shoes have given me horrible blisters,” Link whined in response.

Roy placed his gauze-wrapped hand over his chest and then smiled at his colleagues. “Alright,” he began, “I think I can last a few more hours.”

“Aren’t you special…” Marth muttered.

“Yes,” Link answered.

Marth frowned. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he mumbled, elbowing the elf in his side.

“Yeah, well, maybe I wasn’t talking to you,” Link sneered.

“Shut up, you guys,” Roy ordered, shaking his head in disappointment. He directed his gaze at Marth, and then added, “I’d love to kick your butt right here and now, but that’d be child abuse.”

The sudden ring of the telephone pierced the room’s uncomfortable setting, and Roy hurriedly spun around to proceed to the desk, where he lifted the telephone out of its receiver and answered, “Hello, you’re probably the jerk who called, said a grand total of one word without stuttering, and then hung up on me. You’ve got a problem, and I’m not going to help you unless you tell me who the fudgemonkey you are. How the frick am I supposed to get to your room so I can stuff this telephone down your throat?”

Link hesitated, and then proceeded to applaud Roy’s parody of his own opening speech. Marth once again elbowed Link in the side.

The caller remained silent. “Umm, y-yes, well, I have a problem,” he continued after a slight pause. “This is Ness calling-”

Roy retracted the telephone from his ear and hastily set it into its receiver. “Got the little bugger,” he uttered, grinning deviously. He glanced up and pointed at Link, shrieking, “Get out that stupid directory thingy!”

Link did as commanded and began to scour through his traditional video game hero storage… thing. After several moments, his expression faded into one of dismay and desperation. Roy blinked at he watched Link fumble through the traditional video game hero storage… thing, and eventually pondered aloud, “It’s not in there, is it?”

Link bit his lip and casually shrugged his shoulders as he raised his arms at his sides. “Guess not.”

“I’m going to kill you now, Link,” Roy stated unemotionally. “Prepare yourself.”

Marth stepped in front of Link and gestured toward Roy as the red-haired swordsman seized a lamp from a nearby end table. “Hey, Roy, cool your jets!” he cried, outstretching his arms in anxiety.

“My jets are cool,” Roy replied, “but my propeller is spinning so fast, I think it’s going to explode.”

Link peeped at Roy from behind the shield of Marth’s body. “Please never say that again,” Marth requested, his eyelids drooping in disgust.

“Yeah, even I found that odd, Marthy,” Roy solemnly agreed. He sighed, then returned the lamp to its previous location. “Fine, we’ll do things your way, Mr. Pervert.”

“You said you would stop calling me that,” Marth replied in a tone combined of worry and frustration.

Roy shrugged and then merely gestured toward Link, who cautiously reappeared from behind Marth and adjusted his lopsided suit jacket. “So,” Link nervously began, “where to?”

“To Ness’ room,” Roy answered, lacking his characteristic zeal. “Though, since I don’t know where it is – Link… – we’ll just have to go door to door and try to find Ness’ room.”

Roy nodded to himself and then proceeded to the doorway, where he reopened the door and sauntered into the hallway, disappearing behind the doorframe. Link cautiously pursued, and Marth whimpered to himself before following his colleagues. Roy halted at the door to the room beside that of Marth, and stared in confusion at the plaque hanging upon it. “Bah, I can’t read this garbage,” Roy sputtered as he placed his hand upon the doorknob and then swiftly swung the door open. “Ness?” he cried. His eyes widened at the sight of Peach sitting in a vacant corner of her room, razorblade in hand and wrist turned right side up. Roy swiftly took a step back and shut the door, raised his eyebrows, and continued in the previous direction.

“What was going on in there?” Marth questioned as he paced himself behind Roy.

Roy shrugged. “Oh, you know,” he began casually, “dark room, Peach cutting herself-”

“What?” Marth interrupted.

“Nothing,” Roy answered. “Shut up, Marth.”

Roy halted before the next door and abruptly swung the door open. “Ness?” he yelped.

He cocked an eyebrow when he witnessed Fox McCloud adjusting a foil headdress upon his head, cackling manically, “Now the aliens will never be able to read my mind!”

After he had shut the door, Roy blinked and then slowly continued down the hallway. “Wow,” he began, “I never realized how crazy the people here are.”

“What was in that room?” Link inquired.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Roy replied.

Marth grimaced as he sauntered behind the self-proclaimed executive. “You know,” he started, scowling, “Link knew where Ness’ room was when we had to get him to become Pichu’s translator. Logic would denote that he probably still does remember.”

“Logic denounces nothing!” Roy cried. “…Or, whatever it was you said, it doesn’t do!”

Marth heaved a sigh. Link hesitated for a moment, then halted in the middle of the hallway. Roy carelessly spun around to face his disobedient colleague and spat, “Link, quit trying to think of what this ‘logic’ thing is. If I can’t figure it out, neither can you.”

Link tapped a finger on his chin as he thought, and Marth smiled. “By God, I think he may be on to something!” he cheered, clasping his hands together with anticipation. “Come on, Link, you can do it!”

“Stop urging him!” Roy commanded, backhanding Marth’s arm with his right hand. “If he thinks too hard, he’ll give himself a hernia.”

Marth rubbed his arm with the opposite hand. “Do you even know what that is?” he questioned accusingly.

“Sure I do!” Roy replied with confidence. “It’s what’ll happen to Link if he thinks too hard.”

Link held up a triumphant index finger as he exclaimed, “Ah ha!” He smirked pompously as his colleagues each directed their respective attentions to him, and then nodded. “I know where Ness’ room is!” he cried proudly. During the silence that followed, Link allowed himself a moment to blink as his hand descended to his side. “It’s right there,” he stated, pointing at the door across the hallway from the room of Fox.

Roy hesitated. “Touché, Marth,” he muttered as he proceeded to the indicated door and placed his hand upon the doorknob. He once again paused as a peculiar notion pierced his thoughts, and then stated, “I’m still taking this out of your paycheck, Marthy.”

Marth scowled, and Roy quickly opened the door, shouting, “Ness! You must be in here, ’cause if not, Link’s going to die from a hernia…”

Ness peered upward at the intruders. “I should really start locking my door,” he muttered under his breath.

Roy stared down at Ness and then gave a half-laugh. “Wow, Ness, you’re so short, you could be a barstool.”

“Roy, I need you to help me with something,” Ness persisted. “That’s why I called; although, I have no idea why you hung up on me.”

“Hey, you hung up on me first!” Roy cried in protest, shaking his fist at the psychic boy. “You started it! And I’ll finish it! …Tomorrow.”

“Procrastinators unite,” Marth mumbled.

Ness hesitated, then continued, “Listen, Roy, my issue is kinda’ personal.” He paused as Link ambled toward him and then halted on the opposite side of Roy. “Yes, well, anyway, like I said, it’s rather personal, but-”

“Out with it!” Roy shouted. “Happy hour begins in five minutes!”

Ness rubbed his hands together nervously. “When I was on the Internet the other day looking up directions on how to make my own bombs-”

“What in the world?” Marth interrupted. Ness hid his face in embarrassment.

Roy scowled at his blue-haired colleague and backhanded his arm. “Don’t interrupt! Only I can do that!” he griped. He backhanded Marth’s arm once more, cleared his throat as he returned his focus to Ness, and then sputtered, “ ‘What in the world?’ ”

“I’m sorry!” Ness cried fearfully. “But, now I think the C.I.A. might be after me!”

“With good reason!” Marth shouted, kneeling before the frightful Ness. “What’s wrong with you? You’re looking up on the Internet instructions on how to make bombs?”

Roy forcefully shoved Marth aside with his leg and then stared menacingly down at Ness. “Get over yourself, you little brat,” he scoffed. “The C.I.A. isn’t after you! They’ve got better things to do!”

Link took a step forward and proclaimed, “Well, maybe they could be. You never really know.”

Marth rose to his feet and dusted himself off, and angrily added, “I agree. We should try to find someplace for Ness to hide, or something.”

“A hiding place?” Roy spat. “That’s stupid!”

Ness whimpered, “Oh, please, Roy! Help me find a hiding place! I don’t want to take any chances!”

Roy caressed his chin as he pondered. Eventually, he came to a suitable conclusion: “If I let you go to jail, I’d have all access to your room and therefore your wallet!”

Ness blinked. “I’m, like, ten years old, Roy,” he said. “I don’t even get allowance. I don’t have any money.”

“Cheapskate!” Roy yelped, pointing a condemning finger at the boy. “I have no reason to be here if you won’t be paying me! So, screw you and your excuses!”

“Roy, I think this is a serious problem!” Marth protested, extending his arms outward from his sides.

Roy sneered at his colleague. “You think everything is a serious problem,” he complained, nudging Marth’s arm with his right hand. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how flushing your pet puppy down the toilet was a ‘serious problem.’ You need to quit being so selfish, my friend.”

Marth grimaced and persisted, “Ness needs our help, and you’re not even going to lift a finger to do so? What would you do if you were in his situation?”

“Eat two gallons of ice cream and watch some good old football,” Roy replied.

“That sounds like a good idea!” Link cheered, smiling as he spun around and proceeded to exit the room.

Ness whimpered. Marth stepped in front of the frightened Ness and then protested, “Roy, we have to help Ness. You didn’t have to accept this mission, but you decided to. Now you’re obligated to.”

Roy snickered to himself. “Marth, you fairy, you couldn’t do anything to stop me if I just walked out of this room right now. I said forget about Ness, and your guilty conscience isn’t going to stop me this time!”

“Why do I sense a fight coming on?” Ness wondered aloud.

“Shut up, psycho!” Roy yelled. He returned his focus to Marth, and then grinned, “I’ve been hankering to kick your ass for quite some time now, Marthy!”

Ness smirked to himself. “ ‘Marthy?’ ” he repeated. “Is that some kind of pet name?”

Marth gawked and peered over his shoulder at Ness. “I-”

Roy bit his lip and hurriedly looked away. He slowly brought his hands together and fretfully explained, “We go way back, Ness.”

During the uneasy silence that followed, Ness cleared his throat, followed by Marth’s nervous action of standing up straight and grasping his unbent elbow with his other hand. Ness gradually conjured up the courage to ask, “So, will you guys help me find a hiding place?”

“Sure, why not?” Roy answered, waving one hand carelessly. “After all, if you aren’t around to tell anyone about this, then I won’t have to go through all the trouble of sticking your thieving head on a pike.” He glanced around the room, placing his hands on his hips, and grinned when he caught sight of a lonesome toy box. “Ah, here we go,” he said as he proceeded toward it. “This toy box is perfect,” he declared, lifting the lid and peering inside afterward. “You’re short enough to fit in there, don’t you think, Midget?”

“My name is ‘Ness,’ ” the psychic boy replied.

Roy pouted and rolled his eyes. “Well, excuse me, Mr. Fancy Name!”

Both Marth and Ness slowly approached Roy, who was crouched over the open toy box. “You sure do have a lot of Barbie dolls,” Roy concluded. “Maybe you should talk to Marth here, since he seems to be on your level of ambiguity.”

Ness offered his tiny hand to Marth, but the swordsman shook his head. “Not on your life, sport,” he said, frowning.

“In you go, punk!” Roy gleefully began as he reached for Ness and then dropped him loosely into the toy box. As he stared down at the bewildered Ness, he smirked and continued, “We’ll be back for your payment later, I guess. All you need to do is shut up, and then the C.I.A. won’t be able to find you. Toodles!” He released the toy box lid and then brushed his hands together as he rose to his feet. “Another job well done, by me.”

Marth remained unvoiced as he stared at his colleague. Roy perked up an eyebrow in expectation. After several moments of silence, Roy pondered aloud, “Well? Aren’t you going to yell at me about animal cruelty?”

“Ness isn’t an animal,” Marth replied, blankly staring.

“Really?” Roy inquired, glancing once at the toy box before retracting his gaze toward Marth. “Maybe it’s his big head that threw me off.”

Marth faded into a subsequent silence, and Roy nervously took a step toward his vacant-minded colleague. “Hey,” he began, slowly placing a consoling hand upon Marth’s shoulder, “forget about what Ness said. We don’t have to remember that stuff… he’s not going to remember it, either – after tomorrow, that is.” He forced a smile, and continued, “So, let’s just forget about whatever crap was said here today, so I can go back to being a heartless jerk and you can go back to being my least favorite subordinate who hates me.”

Marth neglected to move, blink, or speak. Roy scowled and muttered, “I really didn’t want to have to do this…” He landed a forceful slap across Marth’s face and then blinked as he awaited Marth’s reaction.

The swordsman’s eyes fluttered for a moment, and he soon grimaced at his attacker. “What was that for?” he cried. “That was completely uncalled for, Roy!”

Link abruptly skidded down the hallway and managed to come to a stop in the doorway to Ness’ room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked between scoops of ice cream from the gallon container within one hand.

“Nope, not a thing,” Roy answered, strolling past Marth and toward the elf. “Ness is going to pay us tomorrow. Just in case he doesn’t, I want you to get the pike ready.”

“Which one?” Link asked, afterward stuffing another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Roy shook his head. “I don’t care. I never care.”

Link shoveled ice cream in between his words, “That was really cheesy, Roy.”

“This whole thing is cheesy,” Roy replied, lowering his head in shame. Eventually, he lifted his head once more and raised an eyebrow at Link. “God, Link, take a moment to breathe.” He thought for a moment, and then added, “No, wait – don’t. Less money I have to split with you two losers.”

Link managed to glance at his watch in between scoops of ice cream. “Hey,” he began, gazing at Roy dutifully, “happy hour started about two minutes ago.”

Roy immediately smirked with growing interest. “You don’t say?” he nodded.

“Yes, I do say,” the elf replied.

Roy’s excited expression faded. “You killed it, Link. You killed it and hung it up in the garage to dry.”

“Better take the Ice Climbers out of there first,” Link advised, depositing his spoon into the now drained ice cream container, “or else it’ll start to smell.” He peered past Roy at Marth, who was standing by his lonesome in the room facing Roy, and questioned, “What’s wrong with Marth?”

Roy huffed, “Who cares? The pansy loser can go make himself useful and take up space elsewhere for all I care…”

“I’m right here, Roy!” Marth cried, tapping the executive’s shoulder.

Roy shrieked. “Oh, Jesus, Link! He’s still not out of it! Get me some chloroform!”

“Out of what?” Link pondered. “Also, we’re out of chloroform. Sorry, I thought it was rubbing alcohol for the longest time…”