Mission 237: A Dimension for Two
From Accct Wiki
Roy outstretched his arms, propping his legs upon the desk before him as he eyed his colleague from across the room. Once his arms had collapsed to his sides, he scowled and pondered aloud, “Link, what the hell are you doing?”
Link licked a finger and apprehensively swabbed it against his suit jacket. Before Roy had an opportunity to repeat his question, Link looked up and frowned, muttering, “I’ve got ice cream stains on my jacket.”
Roy blinked and cocked an eyebrow with suspicion. “And whose fault is that?” he questioned accusingly.
The elf hesitated. “Well, I guess it would be mi-”
“Luigi!” Roy interrupted, instantaneously rising to his feet and holding up a triumphant index finger. “I knew it!” He shot a peculiar glare at Link, who stared in confusion, and then nodded to himself with confidence. “I’ve still got it,” Roy concluded, brushing his bandaged knuckles against his suit jacket collar. As Link continued to stare, Roy sauntered toward Marth’s dresser, grimaced, and added, “Well, what are you waiting for? Get me some Fritos.”
Link paused and allowed himself a bewildered moment of recollection. “Roy, you never said anything about getting you Fri-”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself! Geez,” Roy spat, grumbling under his breath as he lowered his hand to open a drawer of Marth’s dresser. He scoured through the random clothes and eventually lifted out a pre-opened bag of Fritos, and then turned to Link to explain, “Man, you’d think that Marth would get rid of those ‘underpants’ thingies… after all, that’s my Fritos drawer now.”
“Isn’t that a little bit unsanitary?” Link asked worriedly.
Roy directed a puzzled expression toward his questioner. “Unsanit-a-what?”
Link shook his head. “Never mind,” he sighed.
“That’s right, ‘never mind,’ ” Roy retorted, clenching his Fritos bag haphazardly in his twitching left hand.
As Roy proceeded to munch on Fritos, Link bit his lip and nervously inquired, “Has Marth said anything about crumbs in his unde-”
“Link, I’d love to stop interrupting you,” Roy began through a mouthful of chips, “but first you’ve got to stop saying such things that need to be censored as such.”
Link took a moment to register this information, and then nodded as a smile returned to his expression. “Well, okay then, Roy, if you say so,” he replied.
Roy closed his eyes for a moment and snickered to himself. He then reopened his eyes and fished for more chips, stating, “Dude, I want to hear that from you more often, Link, since God knows Marth isn’t going to say it, being the stubborn jerk he is.”
Link hesitated once more. “Could it maybe be that sometimes you aren’t right?”
Roy froze his position with a handful of chips halfway to his mouth. As one slipped from its cluster and onto the floor, he whimpered, “I have lost all faith in humanity.”
At that moment, the door swung open, and Marth bumbled inside irregularly, stumbling past Link and then halting before a counter to lean up against it as he caught his breath. Roy perked up an eyebrow, though with disinterest. “Speaking of losing all faith in humanity, here’s Marth now!” he announced as he crumpled the now empty bag in his right hand and then tossed it over his shoulder carelessly.
Marth clasped a hand over his chest and then brought his head up to stare lazily at Roy. “I’m not that bad!” he protested despite his hyperventilation.
“Shut up and bow to me!” Roy cried, pointing an accusing finger at his blue-haired colleague.
Marth struggled to maintain his balance as he pushed himself away from the counter. “What’s wrong with you?” he sputtered. “I’ll do no such thing!”
Roy slowly lowered his hand, and then turned his head to glance at Link. “Well, I tried.”
“What happened, Marth?” Link asked, concerned. “You look like you just got back from a Y.M.C.A. meeting.”
Marth shook his head and gradually slowed his breathing to a normal pace. As his hand descended to his side, he warned, “Bowser’s out for your blood, Roy!”
Roy shrugged and then gestured lazily toward Link. “You can add another one to the list, then, Link,” he declared.
Link returned the gaze in mystification. “What list?”
“Haven’t you been keeping one, Link?” Roy spat furiously.
“Well, no-”
“You’re fired.”
Link’s eyes grew wide, and Marth gawked at Roy’s futility. “What’s wrong with you?” Marth cried, outstretching his arms. “Link didn’t do anything wrong!”
Roy studied his fingernails, and then glanced at his protesting colleague. He turned his head to glare at Link, who was now searching feverishly for a razorblade in his traditional video game hero storage… thing, and sighed. “Fine, Link, you’re not-fired,” he muttered, rubbing his hand upon the side of his suit jacket.
Link breathed a still hysteric sigh of relief. Roy hesitated as he continued to stare at the elf for a moment, and then smugly turned his head to face Marth. “Well, Captain Pansy, why is Bowser out for my blood this time?” he inquired.
Marth straightened his suit jacket collar and replied, “Well, apparently you were the one who broke his favorite game.”
“Actually, I think Falco broke it,” Link interjected, raising an eyebrow.
“I know,” Marth answered, “but Bowser seems to be more pissed at Roy.” He hesitated. “Which, in retrospect, seems fine by me.”
Roy scoffed, “Well, what the hell? That’s not fair.”
The telephone abruptly rang and forced each of the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated into an insecure silence. Roy stared at the object for a moment, and then casually strolled toward it. He lifted the telephone from its receiver and stated proudly, “Hello, you’ve reached Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated. We, uhh… you know what? Screw this! Tell me what your freakin’ problem is, since I’m really not that interested.”
Roy listened to the strange six-bit beeping noise that responded. “Are you drunk?” he questioned. More beeping noises forced Roy’s expression into a scowl. “This isn’t funny, Luigi! And I know what’s funny!”
Marth blinked. “No, you don’t.”
“Shut up, fairy!” Roy spat, glaring over his shoulder at Marth. He redirected his attention back to the telephone conversation and continued in frustration, “You know what? If your problem is so bad, then you can just come here! I’m sick of trying to find everyone’s freakin’ room!”
Link ambled toward Marth and then halted beside him. “Roy has a lot of pent-up anger to deal with, don’t you think?” he asked. Marth snickered to himself, but remained silent. Link raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Marth, did you have something to do with this?”
“Would you care if I did?” Marth retorted.
“Not really, no,” Link replied, shaking his head once.
Roy slammed the telephone into its receiver and glowered furiously at his now bewildered colleagues. He clasped his hands loosely over his jacket collar and scoffed, “Geez, I don’t know what Luigi’s problem is! He was pressing buttons on the telephone while I was freakin’ talking to him!”
“Why?” Link asked innocently.
Roy grimaced. “If I knew that, why would I-”
“If it was beeping noises you heard, – since this can’t be Luigi; he’s ignoring you for being a jerk – then maybe it was Mr. Game and Watch,” Marth interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
Roy paused. “Like I care what you think, Marthy,” he snorted.
“I think he might be right,” Link declared, causing Roy to glance irately in his direction.
“Again with this ‘losing all faith in humanity’ thing, Link,” Roy began, crossing his arms, “you just keep forcing me into it now…”
Marth frowned and then heaved a tedious sigh as he glared at his colleague. “I think what you heard was Mr. Game and Watch,” he persisted. He turned to Link and pondered aloud, “What could Mr. Game and Watch possibly want from the likes of Roy?”
Link shook his head and responded, “Maybe Roy stole something from him, like that freaky bell he’s always ringing.”
Marth’s expression cringed with puzzlement. “I always thought that was part of him,” he said, disgusted.
“Oh no, it detaches,” Roy interjected smugly. “You just have to work at it a little bit.”
The remaining swordsmen fell into a reluctant silence and stared vacantly at their colleague. Roy bit his lip and then quickly huffed, “Oh, like you guys don’t get stupid lines once in awhile! Jesus, you people need help!”
An abrupt, yet periodic knocking noise pierced the subsequent silence. Link nervously approached the door and then cautiously opened it. He perked up both eyebrows when he saw nothing. “What the?” Link sputtered, glancing back and forth across the floor.
Marth stood beside the elf and explained, “It’s Mr. Game and Watch, Link – he’s facing you directly.”
Mr. Game and Watch turned to the side slightly, and Link witnessed a figure outline appear instantly. “Dude!” Link began, astonished. “That’s cool.”
Roy casually sauntered toward his colleagues and then shoved Link aside to witness Mr. Game and Watch for himself. “Well, well,” he began, smugly grinning as gestured toward the newcomer, “looks like the ghost has some news!” He bent down and whispered, “Alright, tell me everything you know about Luigi’s prank call, since that was not funny, man.”
Mr. Game and Watch hesitated, and Marth sighed immensely. Then, Mr. Game and Watch leapt, in his two frames of animation, and beeped loudly. Roy straightened his posture and then scowled down at the thin figure. “Say, your beeping sounds a lot like Luigi’s!” Roy cried, suddenly pointing. “You must be one of Luigi’s partners in crime!”
Marth elbowed Roy in the side and then grimaced, “Roy, he’s probably the one who called!” When Roy looked up at his attacker, Marth continued, “He must have a problem with something.”
“What do you know?” Roy protested, shrugging his shoulders.
“A lot more than you, apparently,” Marth retorted.
Link bit his lip as he stared at the unmoving frame of animation that was Mr. Game and Watch. “Maybe he wants to learn how to talk, like Bowser!” he suggested, but he only received a vacant stare from Roy.
Mr. Game and Watch continued his dispute in beeping noises. Link scratched his head in confusion, and Marth tapped his chin as he thought. Roy merely made a gesticulation of his hand and concluded, “He wants to lose weight… like Bowser.”
Marth scowled and retorted, “He’s, like, a millimeter wide, Roy. How the hell is he supposed to lose weight?”
Mr. Game and Watch leapt once and screeched a beep. Roy frowned and then stepped backward and gestured toward the desk. “Well, get in here, then, Mr. Freak and Watch, and I’ll try to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Roy said. As Mr. Game and Watch moved into the room frame by frame, Roy smirked to himself and added, “I once was a psychiatrist, after all.”
When Mr. Game and Watch halted beside Roy’s desk and reversed his direction to face the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated, Link clasped his hands together cheerily and stated, “Maybe he wants to start wearing clothes now!”
“Thank God!” Roy cried. He then stared down at Mr. Game and Watch, who beeped randomly in protest, and grimaced, “Well, fine, then! What if I just shoved a pickle down your puny throat and watched you-”
Mr. Game and Watch halted Roy’s slur with a profound beep. Marth stared at Mr. Game and Watch while in deep thought, and then forced a triumphant index finger into the air. “I think I’ve got it!” Marth declared with a hint of pride. “He wants to become three-dimensional!”
“Three-dimens-a-what?” Roy sputtered, cocking an eyebrow.
Marth sighed, and then turned toward Mr. Game and Watch to inquire, “Is that what you wanted?”
Mr. Game and Watch waved his arm through two repetitive frames of animation and then bleeped. Marth nodded to himself, smirking, and then shifted his gaze toward Roy, smugly proclaiming, “I think I’ve got it all figured out.”
“You’ve figured out nothing, pansy,” huffed Roy, placing his hands cautiously upon his hips. “Mr. Game and Watch wants to lose weight! Geez, you people… you drive me insane.” He paused for a moment, tapping a finger to his chin as he thought, and then concluded, “Well, more insane.” He hesitated, heaved a sigh, and then added, “I suppose they don’t have those tests for nothing.”
Link nervously tapped the toe of his dress shoe on upon the floorboards and placed his hands behind his back in an innocent manner. “I don’t know about this, guys,” he abruptly began, causing his colleagues and their client to stare at him. He looked up, tilting his head to the side slightly as he continued, “How are we supposed to make Mr. Game and Watch three-dimensional?”
Roy scowled. “That’s your problem now, isn’t it, Marthy?” he accused, pointing a finger at his colleague. “After all, you’re the one who figured out Mr. Freak and Watch’s self-esteem problem.”
“Well, I don’t really know, either,” Marth confessed. Roy backhanded the swordsman’s arm, and then hesitated as a thought pierced his mind.
The redhead grimaced, announcing, “Oh no, I’ve got something to say to you people – I’m not helping Mr. Game and Watch until he pays me!”
“You can’t expect him to pay you if you haven’t done anything,” Marth shot back, crossing his arms.
“Who says?” Roy replied smugly. “I’m not running a restaurant!” He stood still, in a trance of unoccupied thought, and eventually continued, “Link, write that one down.”
As Link began to scour the room for a pen, Marth frowned and stared at the stationary Roy, and cocked an eyebrow as he muttered to himself, “Let’s see how long his train of thought can go without crashing.” Then, Roy shook his head once before directing his gaze toward Mr. Game and Watch, his jaw hanging open slightly in bewilderment to accompany his dazed eyes. Marth nodded. “Looks like it crashed; probably into a cow.”
Roy glanced up and then cried in frustration, “Link, what are you doing?” When Link returned the confused stare, Roy gestured toward Mr. Game and Watch and sputtered uneasily, “I think he’s got a problem with a paperweight stalking him or something.”
Marth slapped his forehead and slowly dragged it down his face, afterwards staring blankly over his fingers in Roy’s direction. Link cautiously approached Roy and then stood at his colleague’s side, staring apprehensively down at their barely moving client. Marth sighed to himself and ambled toward his befuddled colleagues, halting at Roy’s available side, and then questioned, “Mr. Game and Watch, how do you think we can help you?”
Mr. Game and Watch replied in a series of random beeps and bleeps. Roy appeared thoughtful, caressing his chin with delicate fingers, and eventually concluded, “He wants Link to give him a full-body massage.”
“I agree with-” Link began, but discontinued his statement. “Wait… what?” he questioned, glancing nervously at Roy.
Mr. Game and Watch erupted into a flurry of protesting beeps. Marth grinned and then smugly pronounced, “I told you guys he wants to become three-dimensional.”
Roy hesitated, continuing to stare absent-mindedly at the thin figure before him. “Dude… he’s, like, freaking me out.”
Link clapped his hands together and then pointed one of them at Marth as he giddily thought aloud, “What if we got one of those tire air pump things and used that? It works in the cartoons.”
“Well, cartoons aren’t real, Link,” Marth explained, sinking his head toward his chest. After a silent moment, he raised his head once more and redirected his gaze toward Link. “At this point in time, though, might as well give it a shot.”
Link gleefully smiled and then began to search through his traditional video game hero storage… thing, and slowly lifted a tire pump from it, afterwards suspending it in the air proudly on display for Marth to witness. Marth shrugged and limply gestured towards Mr. Game and Watch. As Link took a preliminary step towards the now, supposedly, perplexed Mr. Game and Watch, Roy drooped his brow in confusion and questioned, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to stick the hose in Mr. Game and Watch’s mouth and then pump air into his body and see if he turns three-dimensional, like in the cartoons,” Link answered, smiling heartily.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Roy screeched. He snatched the hose and tire pump from Link and then jammed the hose into Mr. Game and Watch’s mouth. He placed his feet on the bottommost handles of the tire pump and then grinned to himself as he shakily took hold of the pump. “You all saw it – this was my brilliant plan,” he snickered.
Link nodded and then gave a half-salute. “Alright, then,” he replied boldly. Marth shook his head in disappointment.
Roy cleared his throat and glanced down at his immobile client. “Well, Mr. Freak and Watch,” he began, shrugging his shoulders while retaining his grasp upon the pump handles, “just, uhh, I guess, keep your mouth shut. That seems to be good advice for everyone around here, after all.”
Mr. Game and Watch choked out a beep, and Roy began forcing the tire pump to press air into the figure’s mouth. Marth stared in astonishment, and Link began to chew his fingernails. As Roy continued to press upon the tire pump, Mr. Game and Watch gradually became visible from all angles; “He’s… he’s… bulgy,” Link cried, pointing, frightened, at the newfound shapely form of Mr. Game and Watch.
Roy released the pump handle and then stared smugly down at his creation. He carelessly confiscated the hose nozzle from Mr. Game and Watch’s mouth, and then grinned as he proclaimed, “Success!” He tossed the tire pump and hose aside and then lifted the now bulgy Mr. Game and Watch and impassively tossed him onto the deck of Marth’s dresser, where Mr. Game and Watch witnessed his new form in the attached mirror.
Marth’s jaw quivered. “I…” he stammered unthinkingly, “I-I can’t believe that actually worked.”
“My brilliant plans always work, Marthy,” Roy retorted, folding his arms with confidence. “You should really start listening to me more, it seems.”
Marth scoffed in protest, “Or, maybe both of us should start listening more to Li-”
“Shut up!” Roy interrupted, though cheerfully. “I’m a genius! I’m brilliant! I actually didn’t screw up this time!”
As Roy began to march around the room announcing his self-proclaimed greatness, Marth turned to Mr. Game and Watch and sighed, “Well, Mr. Game and Watch, I’m glad Link’s moronic plan really did work.”
Mr. Game and Watch moved one frame of animation to a casual raise of the hand with an accompanying beeping noise. “I guess,” Marth replied, glancing away swiftly. “Well, I suppose you’ll be on your way, then. Thanks for your time.”
Mr. Game and Watch leapt down from the dresser and ambled frame by frame towards the open door, but halted in the doorway. Ignoring Roy’s repetitive outcries, he immediately transferred to a frame of animation in which his arm was extended toward Marth. The swordsman was hesitant, but eventually offered his hand, and Mr. Game and Watch altered to another frame of animation in which he released a small black rectangle into Marth’s open hand. Afterwards, Mr. Game and Watch continued proudly down the hallway, leaving Marth to shut the door and stare at the donation. Marth looked up, and then whimpered under his breath at the sight of Roy pacing the room in an irregular pattern, crying falsities regarding his own supremacy.
Marth grinned devilishly, and then cautiously approached his overconfident colleague. Roy halted before Marth and gave a weak thumbs-up. “I knew I could do it!” he cried. “You’re all just jealous – admit it!”
“Normally I would,” Link interrupted, causing Roy to spin around and face him, “but somehow I have a feeling of repugnance…” He hesitated. “Wow, that’s a big word. I’ll have to look that up later.”
Marth cocked an eyebrow, but then cleared his throat. Roy hurriedly returned his attention to Marth, and outstretched his arms with delight. “I’m so great; I want somebody to hug me!” Roy bellowed optimistically. “But not you, Marthy.” Marth merely extended his arm toward his colleague, who slowly lowered his arms as he inquired, “What’s that?”
“Game and Watch money,” Marth explained.
Roy fell silent, his arms halfway drooped at his sides. Link apprehensively placed his hand gently over his mouth. Marth grinned at the sight of Roy’s hesitance.
In a flash of rage, Roy clenched his hands into fists and shrieked, “What?”
“You heard me,” Marth explained, nonchalantly closing his eyes.
“That son of a morose pig!” Roy yelped, forcing his arms into the air in desperate frustration. “I’ll kill him!” He scurried around the room, tearing apart papers and tossing aside accessories and clothes, and eventually stopped before Marth’s dresser, where he scoured one drawer for several moments. At last, he obtained an object, and then restrained it tightly within his right hand as he displayed it for his colleagues. “We’ll see how frickin’ bulgy he is after this!” he screeched, clenching the needle between his fist. With that, he dashed into the hallway shouting obscenities.
Marth blinked during the awkward silence that followed, and then stared down at the black rectangle in his palm. He studied it for a moment, and then brought his other hand to it and began to wipe one corner. The black slowly disappeared, and Marth raised his eyebrows with shock as he explained, “Oh, wait – this is a hundred dollar bill.”
Link lowered his hand. “Maybe it went through the wash with the rest of Mr. Game and Watch’s laundry, or something. That might’ve turned it black.”
“I hate your moronic logic,” Marth sneered, jamming the bill into his suit slacks’ pockets. He sighed. “Why can’t I be as dumb as you?”
In the hallway, Roy pursued the frame by frame scurrying form of Mr. Game and Watch, extending his arm forward to lengthen the needle point’s reach. “Get back here, you bulging freak!” Roy shouted furiously as each frantic step drew him closer to the slowing pace of Mr. Game and Watch. “I’ll teach you to not pay me!”
Mr. Game and Watch unleashed a frenzied flurry of beeps as he continued to flee the maniacal redhead. “How dare you say something like that!” Roy protested, shrieking. “I swear I would’ve killed you sooner if my train of thought hadn’t hit that cow!”
Several of the other residents began to open their doors only to witness Roy’s aggravated pursuit of the now three-dimensional Mr. Game and Watch. While many of them closed their doors, a few allowed their eyes to follow him as he passed hurriedly in the hallway. Roy began to hyperventilate, though his blind fury made him oblivious to his respiratory dilemma. Mr. Game and Watch dashed furiously and then slipped under a hulking figure at the end of the hallway, and then continued his escape into the lobby. Roy meanwhile collided with the mass, and collapsed onto the floor with both hands uneasily placed on the open floor space at his sides, his murderous needle lost. He looked up, gulped, and whimpered, “Hey, Bowser. How goes it?”
