Mission 242: The Last Straw

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“Link, where the hell is Marth?”

The addressee looked up. “Wha…?” he drawled. “Sorry, Roy, I wasn’t listening.”

“Marth,” Roy repeated, tapping his fingers on the desk beside him, “where… the hell… is he? Slow enough for you now?”

Link smiled. “Yes, thank you. To answer your question… I dunno.”

Roy rolled his eyes, sighing, “Yeah, you’re always such a big help, Link, thank you.” Confused, he glanced away for a moment, and then asked, “Why is Marth never here when I need him, I wonder? He must be plotting against me, probably with Luigi. They’re up to something, I tell you. Bastards…”

Link remained silent until Roy continued, “You know, I’m getting kinda’ sick of his messing around on my time. What does he think I pay him for, anyway?” He hesitated. “Well, if I did pay him, then what would he think I was paying him for, anyway?” Roy sank deeper into his chair, staring off into space as he thought aloud, “I really need a gig, dude. I’m in the red again this month. I might even have to move into your room with you, Link.” Pausing for a moment to wait out Link’s response, – disturbed shuddering – Roy then continued, “I don’t know what to do. Usually I’d just go kick Ness’ ass or something to cheer myself up right about now, but I don’t really feel like it. At this point, I’d do anything for some money… even-”

“Wash Ganondorf’s underwear?” Link asked.

Roy blinked. “Sure, why not? Although, I think Marth already does that for him, for some odd reason.”

A spark of inspiration made itself apparent across Link’s face as he chimed, “Oh, wait, I think Marth went to the bank for something.”

At that mention, Roy seemed to perk up with sudden interest. “You don’t say?” he added.

“Well, actually, I do say-”

“Shut up.” Roy tapped his fingertips together, deep in what Link presumed to be thought. “That gives me an idea, Link,” he eventually remarked, his devious grin growing ever wider.

Link’s smile faded. “Oh, cra-”

---

“This is a stickup! Everybody get down onto the ground and give me your jewelry and purses, and then I want all the money out of the registers! Every single one of them! So get a move on!”

Nothing moved but Roy’s dim reflection. “Uhh, Roy,” Link whispered, “I think you have to open the door first.”

Roy’s eye twitched as he stared at the glass double doors before him. “Don’t be a smartass.” He pulled down a ski mask over his face, leaving only his eyes, the bridge of his nose, and tufts of stray hair visible from underneath the fabric.

Link did the same with his own ski mask, though the end of his classic green hood lined his back, free from the confinement of the black fabric. “Link, are you retarded?” Roy spat. “Someone’s going to see that hat thing of yours and recognize you! …And why didn’t you poke out any holes for your pointy-ass ears, either? You look like… a totem pole.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Roy cocked the pistol he had been holding, then took a deep breath. “Okay, on ‘three,’ ” he wheezed, neglecting to exhale. When Link lifted a shotgun, Roy finally breathed, wondering, “Link, where the hell did that come from? …Oh, from your traditional video game hero storage… thing?”

Link shook his head. “No. I have deep pockets. …Really deep pockets.”

Roy blinked. “Okay, then…” he sighed, returning his attention to the doors before him. “Okay, one… two-”

“Wait, Roy!” Link wailed. He used his available hand to pull out another gun. “Can I use this automatic rifle instead?”

Roy took a moment to glance back and forth between Link’s two weapons. “Umm… Link, you’re scaring me. I know that’s not particularly out of the ordinary, but, I mean, where do you put it all?” Link seemed puzzled, and Roy frowned, muttering, “Never mind, I don’t care. Alright, on ‘three,’ got it? One… two… three!”

Link remained still and watched in silence as Roy angrily swung the door open and darted inside the building. Roy’s shrieks were loud enough for Link to hear them, and the elf took a few steps back and leaned against the stucco wall. “Alright, I’m not messing around, here!” came Roy’s cries. “This is a stickup, and you’d better give me all the money in all the registers! Get a move on! Now! …And why am I not seeing any registers?”

Link set aside his rifle and began to study his fingernails. After a few moments of gradually-fading cries from Roy, the redhead eventually opened one of the double doors and stepped outside. What was visible of his face was a bright scarlet color. “Link, that wasn’t a bank,” he sneered. “That was a restaurant.”

“Well,” began Link, “the bank is next door, actually.” With an innocent smile, he picked up the rifle he had set aside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought you’d get mad.”

Roy was fuming, though he remained silent. Eventually, he calmed down, and figured a swift punch to the arm would do the trick, but Link anticipated the move and took a few steps back, causing Roy’s swing to miss completely. At first, Roy was furious; next, however, his anger subsided, as he had to take a moment to give credit where it was due: “You’ve learned well, haven’t you, Link?”

Link was staring blankly into space. “I-I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.

“Never mind.”

Roy proceeded past Link and, once again, halted before the class double doors. Unsteady on his feet, he gulped and pondered aloud, “This’ll make me macho, or whatever, right, Link?”

Link merely stared. “Thanks for the input,” Roy sighed.

He took a deep breath, silently mouthed, “One… two… three,” to Link, and immediately swung open one of the double doors. Followed somewhat clumsily by Link, Roy held up his pistol and pointed it at the nearest bystander, whom was standing near a counter and filling out a deposit slip. “Uhh, e-everybo – d’oh…” Roy fumbled.

Most of the customers in the building noticed the two newcomers and collapsed to the floor, panicking. Link accidentally dropped his shotgun, which discharged and left a bullet hole on the opposite wall; one woman began to cry. Roy glared at his colleague, and Link insisted, “Don’t worry, I’ve got another one.”

Roy rolled his eyes and then cried, “Alright, so, this is a stickup! I want everybody down on the ground, and… oh, you’re all down on the ground already. Well, in that case…” He trailed off when he caught sight of Marth, whom had only recently come to realize the identities of the robbers. “Oh, fu-” he stammered, but halted; his pistol lowered slightly as Marth rose from the floor and dashed irately in his direction.

“Roy, what in the world are you doing?” Marth shrieked, gripping the masked figure by the shoulders. “Have you reduced yourself to bank robbing?”

Roy began to gander around the building, and bit his lip when he noticed a few bank tellers and customers quietly chatter amongst themselves. Then, with a devilish smirk, Roy yelped, “Why, don’t you dare act stupid, my partner in crime!”

Link retrieved his shotgun from the floor and struggled to hold both of the long guns level. Marth gawked at Roy’s insinuation, replying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Roy swung Marth around, gripped him by the arm, and edged him closer to the nearest bank teller. “Marth, please ask this nice young lady to open the vault for us.”

“And where do you plan to put the money, I wonder?” Marth sneered. “You were aiming for the stereotypical bank robber look, but you seem to be missing the little brown sacks with dollar signs on them.”

Roy fell silent. “Damn,” he said, looking to Link, “I knew we forgot something.”

Marth forced himself out of Roy’s grasp. “Yeah, so, maybe if you’re really nice, you’ll only go to jail for attempted robbery,” he added.

“But, Link’s got really deep pockets!” Roy exclaimed.

Marth stood silently for a moment. “Umm… what?”

Suddenly, a group of policemen burst through the double doors and pointed various firearms at the three swordsmen. “Get down on the ground!” one yelled.

“Hey,” Roy scowled, “you’re copying me!”

After several more warnings and commands, Roy turned to Marth. “Geez, how does this work, anyway?”

“There is such a thing as a silent alarm, Roy,” Marth replied.

“Well, that’s news to me,” Roy muttered, shrugging his shoulders. Unbeknownst to him, in that process he managed to appear as though he were pointing his pistol at one of the policemen. One at a different angle immediately open fire, and a bullet pierced through Roy’s hand, causing him to drop his pistol and then cringe down to clutch his hand. “Oh my God!” he shouted. “My other hand! …My other blood!”

“Get him!” a policeman yelled, and almost instantly four officers leapt in Roy’s direction. He was forced to the ground and his head pinned to the tile like a cat waiting to pounce. Though he struggled, he was no match for the combined strength of the policemen. Link was next taken down, and pinned nearby to his associate; Marth received the same treatment, and eventually all three were handcuffed.

Roy struggled as his hand gushed blood that stained his slacks. “Marth, this is all your fault!” he managed to utter.

“Of course,” Marth sighed in response.

Link remarked, “This is just like we were on Cops, you guys.”

“We were never on Cops…” Roy replied, gazing in confusion at his accomplice.

Link hesitated. His eyes shifted back and forth. “Oh, right, of course…”

---

The swordsmen’s prison cell was dank and dark, illuminated only by a single overhead light; as Link stared beyond the vertical bars into the empty hallway, Roy paced the floor, gazing over the blocks beneath his feet in silent contemplation. Marth sat on the east end bed with his chin rested upon his palms, watching Roy walk back and forth. An awkward silence permeated the small enclosure.

“How did we all end up the same cell, anyway?” Link finally broke the silence.

“Plot device…” Marth rolled his eyes.

Roy ignored the exchange and stopped near Link. He gazed in disgust at his two gauze-bound hands, and then resumed his pacing. Link raised his eyebrows and turned to face Marth. “How did he get in and out of the hospital so fast?” he asked.

Marth’s expression was marked by a deep frown. “Plot device.”

Roy abruptly darted to the wall opposite the cell bars and knocked on it a few times. Link merely eyed the action and pondered aloud, “What’s Roy doing?”

His blue-haired friend answered, “Probably looking for another plot device.”

Roy then pounded once on the wall as hard as he possibly could without further injuring himself. “You guys,” he began, irritated, “stop breaking the fourth wall and help me break this wall! I’m sure there’s a fault in it somewhere.”

“And what gives you that idea, I wonder?” inquired Marth. He raised himself from his slouched sitting position and let his hands drop to his sides, each of which loosely clutched any available sheet fabric. “We deserve this, Roy.” He paused, and then corrected himself: “Actually, you deserve this. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, either! There was just some unfortunate timing on Link’s part, that’s all,” Roy spat. He kicked the wall and shook his head, muttering, “Nope, not there, either.”

Link took a moment to smile to himself. “I guess it doesn’t really matter if you guys did anything wrong or not,” he said. “Come a few more months, it won’t matter if you’re still in here.”

Marth grimaced. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for sure I’ll be bailed out,” Link replied. “I’ve got another project coming up. It’s a big project, too. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. While you guys were at that anime convention, I shot a few scenes for the trailers.”

Roy thought for a couple of seconds before he shouted his rebuttal: “Well, just so you know, Marth and I aren’t concerned about that.” He placed his hands on his hips. “You know, because…” – he glanced around as he mentally fished for an answer – “well, we don’t know if we’re interested in such a project or not.”

“I’m interested in that project,” Marth stated.

“You’re not helping…”

Link leaned against a nearby wall. “So, I guess all I have to do it wait a few days. Somebody will notice that I’m gone and undoubtedly come bail me out.”

Roy bit his lip and resisted the urge to do whatever damage he could to his colleague. Marth, sensing Roy’s aggravation, rose to his feet and took a stance between him and Link. “Look,” Marth began, “whatever the case may be, all that matters now is that we’re able to spend what time we have in here peaceably. Roy, in your case, I suggest that you get some counseling, as they seem to offer it here to people of your, umm… caliber.”

“Oh, really? Well, that’s good to know, and-” Roy halted his speech to let Marth’s statement properly register. “You know,” he sighed, “I would love to kick your ass for that, but somehow I think that guy in the next cell over would call for the security guards, and I heard they do horrible, horrible things to you after they give you sedatives.”

“You’ve obviously not been to the showers yet,” came a voice from the adjacent cell.

Roy seemed confused. “I’ve heard that voice before!” he cried.

“I’m sure you have,” the voice replied. “It’s me, Captain Falcon.”

“Oh,” came Roy’s somewhat somber response. “I thought you were the little voice in my head again. Anyway, what the hell are you doing here, Falcon Boy?”

“Well,” Captain Falcon began, sighing, “by court order, the cameras that you had placed around the building had to be removed, and, upon watching all those tapes, somebody discovered that I had molested Ness.”

Roy burst into laugher. Marth’s eyes grew wide, and he shouted, “Why would you do that?”

“I was looking for a place to hide my collection of creepy-ass tapes, and I decided on Ness’ toy box. I didn’t know that he had gone back into hiding in there after you had let him out to translate for Pikachu, or whatever.”

There was an awkward silence that followed. “So, why did you molest him?” repeated Marth.

Captain Falcon cleared his throat. “Well, you know… because he was – well… he was just there, and something had to be done. You know?”

“Has the world gone crazy?” Marth wondered.

“No, just your little fantasy land,” Roy answered.

An abrupt slamming noise suddenly flowed down the hallway. “The hell’s that?” Roy asked, prompting Link to shrug his shoulders in response. A security guard ambled down the hallway, followed by a very familiar figure, and both of them stopped before the swordsmen’s cell.

“Well, looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, eh? It’s nice to see you behind bars for myself, Roy, and that orange jumpsuit is very slimming!”

Roy gawked. “Luigi? What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“I have a proposal for you, Roy,” Luigi said. “I heard about your financial problems, and I thought I could help you out.”

“I’m not having financial problems!” Roy sneered.

Marth tilted his head to the side slightly. “Luigi, I thought that you didn’t like us very much. What proposal did you have in mind?”

“Oi!” Roy growled, backhanding Marth’s arm. “The adults are talking, Marth. Please do everyone a favor and butt out.” He turned with a grimace towards Luigi. “What is it that you have in mind? Oh wait, don’t tell me, because I already know: you just want to screw me over, like you and Marth have been doing for the past few months, huh? Well, you, sir, are a jerk! And I don’t negotiate with terrorists!”

Luigi hesitated. “Umm, no. Actually, I thought you might be willing to let me take over your little fake business thing.”

Roy sniffed and whined, “It’s not fake…”

Marth rolled his eyes. “Pretty darn close, though.”

“Indeed,” agreed Luigi, “which is why I propose that you three come work for me. I’ve got a home business, and you three could be my delivery boys.”

“That sounds remarkably lame,” Roy scoffed.

“I knew you would say something like that,” retorted Luigi. “I’m also willing to bail you guys out of jail for it. Not to mention, Roy, the fact that I’ll pay you handsomely for your services.”

Roy’s eye twitched as his expression alternated between ones of suspicion and anticipation. “Paid, you say…?”

“Wait, wait,” Marth began, turning himself in Luigi’s direction, “you never had enough extra money to start your own business, let alone hire people to work for you. How did you get all that money since the last time we saw you?”

Luigi smirked. “Who do you think it was that sued because there were cameras in every room?”

“You bastard!” cried Captain Falcon from the next cell.

“Umm, okay then…” Luigi straightened his overalls straps and continued, “So, what do you guys say? So far, my business has been pretty successful.”

“What do you do?” Link asked.

“I make voodoo dolls by request and then have my customers sue someone for their injuries.”

“Isn’t that a bit unlawful?” Marth inquired. He looked at the security guard standing next to Luigi, who, surprisingly, said and did nothing.

Luigi shrugged. “Yeah, but it pays. Anyway, what say you, Roy?”

Roy was torn between his pride and his desire to get paid. “I don’t know, Luigi,” he finally rejoined, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. “How much in wages are we talking here?”

Before Luigi could respond, Link waved his hand and stated quite clearly, “Don’t worry about it, Luigi. We’re all set to get out of here already. Someone’s coming to bail us out, and then we’re going to get to work on a very important project.”

Luigi seemed disappointed. “Oh,” he solemnly replied. “Well, I guess I can just go get one of those new guys to do it. See you guys when you get out, then.” Luigi proceeded down the hallway, followed by the security guard that had let him visit the swordsmen.

Another awkward silence descended upon their cell. After a moment’s contemplation, Roy questioned, “Link, I thought you were the only one getting bailed out of here.”

Link blinked. “Oh yeah.”

“Well, so much for that,” Marth thought aloud.

Roy became infuriated, but held back his rage and managed to mutter, “Link, you are so lucky that you still technically work for me, because you’re fired!”

“Okay,” Link said happily.

Marth shook his head in disappointment. Then, after a moment of realization, he eagerly asked, “Roy, can I be fired, too?”

Roy scowled. “Sure,” he sneered, “and, in fact, we’re all fired! How’s that grab you?”

“Actually,” interjected Captain Falcon’s voice, “I think you guys were fired. I don’t know; I heard somebody mention that around the time you guys left Headquarters to go get something for Pikachu. Except for you, Link, that is.”

Roy sulked, “Well, that grabs me in a place where I wish it wouldn’t grab me…”

Captain Falcon began to reply, “Funny, that’s what Ness sa-”

“Please don’t do that,” Marth interrupted, burying his face in his hands. “Roy, we’re jobless now,” he complained as he looked up, “and this time, you can’t blame me for it.”

“Ah, but I will blame you,” Roy retorted, “because it would be unlike me to not blame you.” He looked away for a moment, and then grinned to himself. “Hey, I just got a crazy idea. What if I hired you guys again, and-”

Link innocently smiled. “Roy, I know that it’s taken me too long to say this, but… you need to shut up and get some therapy.”

Roy stood silently. “God, I hate you guys… you’re both fired again.”

Link whimpered, “But-”

“Fired.”

“But-”

“Fired.”

“Okay, I just wanted to tell you that Marth has been staring at your butt this whole time,” Link finally said.

“What?” shrieked Roy.

Marth feverishly shook his hands back and forth, protesting, “No, I haven’t! Link’s making it up, and-” His speech was interrupted when Roy leapt at him and began a fight that was awkwardly reminiscent of a traditional Super Smash Brothers scuffle.

Link clapped his hands together cheerfully. “I always wondered what would happen if I said that…”