Mission 229: Shopping for Dummies

From Accct Wiki

After setting down a few blank papers onto his desk, Roy finally looked up at his colleagues and grinned. “Well,” he suddenly began, “that last mission totally sucked.”

Link fidgeted. “You’re telling me. Who would’ve thought that there could be so many make-up kits in one place? I mean, I felt like I was going to turn into a girl by just looking at them.”

Marth shot an expression of confusion from across the room at him. “Wouldn’t that hurt?” he wondered aloud.

“Maybe,” Link answered, frowning as he began to ponder that question himself.

Roy suddenly rose from behind his desk and accidentally knocked a pile of papers onto the floor. He glanced down at the mess for a moment, but then simply shrugged and turned to his colleagues. “We have to improve on our methods,” he declared. “With every mission, somehow Marth manages to screw it up.”

“Me?” Marth questioned, glowering furiously at his accuser. “It was my idea that got us out of looking for that stupid floppy disk for Captain Falcon, and I didn’t even help in the last mission, so how could anything have been my fault?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Roy began, displaying a thoughtful expression. He strolled out from behind his desk and halted within the circle of Marth’s personal space. “Perhaps I haven’t explained this to you yet,” he stated, leaning in towards Marth’s face and forcing him to simultaneously slant backwards in the opposite direction. “Maybe you weren’t aware of your position in this company,” Roy continued, finally standing up straight. “Your job is what we like to call the ‘Source of Blame,’ or ‘S.O.B.’ for short.” He hesitated to glance at Link and then added, “So, it’s your job to take all the blame for everything that could possibly go wrong.”

Marth scowled. “So, according to what you’re saying, even if nothing goes wrong, you’re going to blame me for it because there was a potential for something to go wrong?”

Roy raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Wow, you’re catching on fast,” he replied. “Perhaps I’ll even promote you to S.O.C.”

“What’s that?” Marth asked. In jest, he continued, “ ‘Source of Casualties?’ ”

Roy suddenly eyed him with suspicion. “How did you know about that?” he hurriedly questioned. “Were you going through my important documents?”

Link abruptly interjected, “You don’t have any important documents as of right now. You told me to burn them after you started making claims that you could save money by firing me.”

Roy glanced at him and then nodded when he turned back to face Marth once more. “You’ve been reading my mind, haven’t you?” he asked, sneering at the now indifferent Marth. “I told you to stay out of there!”

“Yeah, you’d better listen to his advice,” Link explained to Marth. “It’s a horrible, horrible place.”

Marth blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the clamor of the telephone ringing. Roy instantaneously shifted his focus towards it, and his eye twitched as he noticed Link reaching to answer it. With a swift, yet clumsy hop, Roy leapt towards the desk and caused the feeble plywood to collapse beneath him. As the telephone continued to ring, both of his colleagues stood watching in shock as Roy coughed before he calmly lifted the telephone out of its receiver and answered, “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?”

“Err, yeah,” the voice on the opposite end of the line confusedly began. “Hi, or whatever. Listen, I’ve got a job for you guys…”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Please try to make it interesting, sir,” he said. “Who is this, anyway?”

“It’s Luigi,” the caller replied.

“What happened to your accent?” Roy asked, grinning as he rested his chin on his hand.

“Do I have to have an accent?” Luigi responded in an annoyance.

Roy thought for a second, and then answered, “Yes. Yes, you do need to have an accent.”

There was a slight hesitation from the caller, but he soon continued, “Alright, fine. I-a have a job for-a you guys.”

Roy scowled and said, “You’re not trying very hard, Luigi.”

“Fine!” Luigi finally cried. “I’ll just go elsewh-”

“No, no!” Roy shouted into the phone. “Don’t leave me! Give me money! I’ll stop making fun of you! Just tell me what the job is, alright?”

Luigi paused once more and eventually continued, “Alright, now that all that’s squared away, I-”

“Oh, wait a second,” Roy interjected. He glared at Marth and then Link, but Marth only gestured for Link to take the demand. Link turned around and pressed a button on the nearby small stereo and smiled as the lighthearted music began to play. “We specialize in all sorts of jobs, from high-tech, futuristic space battles to cleaning dishes. Here, at-”

“I don’t really care,” Luigi cut in. “Now, will you just listen to the job?”

Roy frowned and then sighed. “Nobody’s going to let me finish that piece, are they?” he wondered aloud. “Alright, what’s the job you’ve got for us, then?”

“I need you guys to go do my shopping for me,” Luigi answered. “If you come to my room, then I’ll give you the list for-”

“Done and done!” Roy cried, then slammed the telephone into the receiver. He stood up and dusted himself off, and then glared down at his desk, which was in shambles. “Holy-” he began. He glanced around and then stared down at his desk once more. “Splinters!” he shouted, holding his hands up near his face. Suddenly, his expression faded into one of disgust. As his hands dropped down to his sides, Roy turned to Marth and muttered, “That’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Marth seemed uninterested. “I’ll see to it that Pikachu builds you a desk made from that really nice plywood at the hardware store across the street, sir,” he sneered.

“Good, you’d better. You’ve been slacking lately,” Roy replied. Marth rolled his eyes.

Link took a step towards Roy. “What’s the job this time?” he asked excitedly.

“We’ve got to do Luigi’s shopping for him!” Roy boldly declared, clenching his hand into a fist and smirking.

Marth shook his head. “Why are we only doing people’s chores for them?” he pondered. “These are less like jobs and more like housework.”

“Ah, but it’s paying housework!” Roy replied, pointing a triumphant finger at the grimacing swordsman. “That’s the best kind of housework!”

“Fine,” Marth replied, holding his arms out slightly. “What are we shopping for, then?”

Roy hesitated. Link turned to face Roy and then grinned. “I’ll bet it’s socks, since they certainly wear out fast.” Both Marth and Roy stared at Link in an insensible perplexity. Link’s glances switched between them as he nervously added, “Sorry, I don’t get that many lines.”

Roy blinked and finally answered, “I don’t know what we’re shopping for.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t hang up on people so quickly,” Marth suggested.

Roy shook his index finger as a warning. “Do not make suggestions for my improvement that I will never consider. That’s Link’s job, though he doesn’t really seem to do it.” He glanced once at Link, and then persisted, “In any case, I’ve got an idea. We’ll just go to Walmart! They have everything, so we’ll just pick up everything.”

“Sounds good!” Link exclaimed, turning happily to Marth.

Marth remained silent but seemed prepared for the worst. Roy clasped his hands together and grinned slyly. “Alright, then!” he began. “To the Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated super-vehicle!”

The three swordsmen stood looking at one another until Marth eventually turned away and began walking down the hallway. Link and Roy soon followed, Link with an overly energized expression plastered on his face and Roy with his hands behind his back like the important executive he wished he was. The trio ambled in silence until Roy declared, “I think we should get some spiffy suits to wear, as well. Then we’ll really look professional.” He nodded to himself and added with a grin, “Now who’s laughing, world?”

“I think it’s Mario,” Marth replied as he pointed to their client’s brother, who was standing at the end of the hallway and laughing at them.

Roy frowned. “What’s so funny?” he asked. Then his eyes grew wide as he thought of a possible cause. “Marth, pull your zipper up!”

“It’s not me,” he shot back. “Oh, wait, it is me. I thought it was drafty in here.”

Link looked away as Marth proceeded to pull his own zipper up. “This is just like my junior prom…” he muttered as he tried to focus on other things.

Roy eyed Marth confusedly once he had finished the task. “Please never do that in my presence again,” he requested.

“Sometimes you worry me yourself,” Marth retorted. He glanced in the direction that they were all walking in and noticed that Mario had taken his leave. With a sigh of relief, he thought, “You think he saw my Powerpuff Girls boxers?”

“What the…?” Roy sputtered.

“Yeah! ‘What the…?’ ” Link chimed in.

Marth hesitated during his speech as the trio entered into the lobby. “Did I say that out loud?” he asked. “Because I could have sworn that I was thinking it.”

“When there are quotation marks around your words, then that means you were saying them out loud,” Roy explained. “But I’d rather not talk about your little fixation right about now.”

Marth breathed a sigh of relief, and then opened one of the main entrance double doors. When Link and Roy strolled past him, he sneered and then exited the building himself. As he ambled behind his colleagues, he could not help but wonder about a particular issue. “Roy,” he eventually began, “before we actually head out anywhere, answer me this: how are you going to pay for the expenses?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out,” Roy responded nonchalantly. The members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated continued to the parking lot, where Roy halted and held out his arms in pride, forcing the other two to stop in their tracks behind him as they witnessed the company vehicle. “Well,” Roy started, “here it is! The Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated super-vehicle!”

Marth and Link stared in confusion at the 1963 Volkswagen bus, which was reduced to a manila color and had one of the front lights smashed in with what may at one time have been a pickaxe. Marth sauntered over towards the dilapidated vehicle and pulled the headless handle out of the front light and examined the scarred metal. “Roy, this is our transportation?” he asked as he tossed the handle aside onto the sidewalk. “It’s a…”

“Hippie bus!” Link shouted. “Awesome!” He bolted for the sliding door on the side of the van and immediately slid the door to the side to peer inside. He leapt inside the van and looked around feverishly. Marth walked around to the side and watched as Link began pulling on loose wires within the van, and then shifted his attention to Roy.

Roy only gestured towards the van and asked, “Are you just going to stand around drooling like a brain-dead moron, or are you going to get in?”

Marth frowned and then slid the side door to a close, mumbling, “We wouldn’t want Link to hurt himself.” He took a few steps in the opposite direction, opened the front passenger side door, and took a seat inside the putrid van. Once Roy had done the same and taken his seat at the driver’s side, Marth glanced into the back seat to witness Link as he began digging up wires from underneath the carpeting. Marth then turned back to Roy and pondered aloud, “You know, you never answered me about how you plan to pay for all the junk we’re going to be randomly buying.”

“I don’t think I need to,” Roy retorted. “Just leave everything to me. …Except the heavy stuff.” He swiftly lifted out a keyring from his pocket, found a particular key, and then jammed it into the ignition. “Easy as pie! Or cake. Whichever one sounds better at the time.”

Marth glared down confusedly at the wheel as Roy clenched it within his hands. “Uhh, Roy?” he sputtered. “How long have you had your license?”

Roy grinned back at his colleague. “A license to kill needs to starting date,” he replied, and then released his horrific grip on the steering wheel to grab the shift stick.

---

Marth stumbled out of the front passenger side door and fell onto his hands and knees on the asphalt. “I know you said you needed money through this stupid job-hunter company,” he began, panting, “but when you drive like that, it’s just not worth it.”

Roy calmly flung the driver’s side door open and stepped outside before slamming the door once more. “Grow a backbone,” he said from the opposite side of the vehicle. “Seriously… sometimes it kinda’ freaks me out, like you’ve got scoliosis.”

Link slid the side door open and exited on the side that Marth was nearly about to faint. “Come on,” he urged as he assisted Marth to his feet. “We can go faint later.”

“Now seems like a good time,” Marth replied, still dazed. “What year is it?”

Roy suddenly appeared from behind the rear of the van and held his hands up as he wiggled his fingers. “It’s the year 1963!” he said quickly. “Fear the hippies! They’re everywhere!”

Marth shook his head with worry. “Not hippies! Hippies and their egotistical pot-smoking, and uhh… what’s that other thing they do?”

“Never mind, Marth,” Roy sighed, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. “You’re not funny when you’re dazed and confused.”

Marth shrugged and blinked as he looked around. “Was I doing something vengeance-related?”

“Not since yesterday,” Link answered. He turned to face Roy, who was only scowling at his colleagues. “Oh, right. We’re supposed to be doing our job, right?”

“Not unless you’ve got twenty billion dollars in your pocket,” Roy retorted. “Which is unlikely, since you don’t have any pockets, skirt boy.” He paused and then triumphantly pointed towards the store which they were destined to enter and buy things from. “To Walmart!”

“Will you stop with the ‘To Someplace’ stuff?” Marth questioned.

Roy only shook his head and gestured towards the discount store. Link walked past Marth, halted next to Roy, and then examined the markings upon the asphalt trailing behind the rear wheels of the van. “Nice skid marks,” Link complimented as he looked up at Roy.

“It takes years of practice to get skid marks like that,” Roy explained, grinning smugly. “Except, for me, weeks of practice, since I really haven’t had my license for-”

“I knew it!” Marth interrupted as he strolled confidently towards Roy. “Then it was you that backed into my car in the parking lot!”

Roy grimaced. “Marth, when are you going to come back from your little fantasy world? What, with the Powerpuff Girls and hair curlers…”

“I never told you about those,” Marth said, suddenly shying away.

Link grinned. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “Besides, it was me. I backed into your car.”

Marth scowled, but Roy interjected on any further quarreling by asking, “Can we please just go into Walmart and get this over with?” The others fell silent, glanced at him, and then wordlessly agreed. “Excellent,” Roy said. “To-”

“Walmart!” Link chimed in gleefully.

Roy turned around and backhanded Link’s arm. “What did I say about finishing my awesome declarations?”

“Nothing, if I recall correctly,” Link answered, rubbing his sore arm with his other hand. He frowned as Roy immediately reversed his direction and proceeded towards Walmart, followed by Marth, and then decided to pursue Roy as well. After they strolled through one of the pairs of double doors on the facade of the building, Link threw his hands up to his face. “The fluorescent lighting…!” he cried. “It burns!”

There was an elderly woman near the entrance constantly muttering, “Welcome to Walmart” like a broken record. Roy displayed a disgusted expression as he strolled over to the rows of shopping carts.

“Would you like a cart, sir?” the nearest employee asked as he shoved a shopping cart with one faulty wheel towards the dumbfounded customer.

Roy somewhat reluctantly accepted the cart that was pushed at him. Link and Marth followed Roy as the self-proclaimed leader steered the cart in a haphazard fashion down a randomly selected aisle. “Dude,” he began, “this cart steers like…” He trailed off and glanced at Link.

Link seemed confused. “Uhh,” he sputtered, “your ex-wife?”

Roy halted and leant over with his elbows on the rear pole of the shopping cart. He stared at Link with resentment. Finally, he replied, “No, she was only slightly better than this.” He resumed walking, and his colleagues ambled after him. “Alright,” he began again, “time to get to work. You guys just pick up random junk and throw it into this cart. We’ll buy it all and give it to Luigi afterwards, and then he’ll have to pay us!”

“You sure are single-minded,” Marth muttered, grasping a pack of batteries and tossing it into the cart as he continued to walk.

Link picked up a pack of cigarettes and pitched it into the cart. At the end of the aisle, the cart was already halfway filled with assorted rechargeable items and munchies. Roy turned the cart sharply into the next aisle and smirked. “Look, Link!” Roy said. “It’s the frozen food section!”

Link shuddered and replied, “I was locked in one of those freezers for a whole night. It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious!” Marth laughed as he pointed a finger at his frustrated comrade. Link suddenly unsheathed his sword from its holster, and Marth added solemnly, “Crap, he brought his sword.”

Roy hurriedly departed from the shopping cart and opened a freezer door. He swiftly grabbed a bag of frozen pasta and chucked it at Link, shouting, “Catch!”

Link gasped as the bag collided with his left arm and then fell to the floor. “Aww, that’s cold!” he whined. Then, he stood up straight, sheathed his sword once more, and narrowed his eyes at Roy as he muttered, “Touché, Roy.”

Roy only snapped his fingers and continued pushing the cart down the aisle. Near the end, Marth smirked and pointed at one of the racks on the right side of the last freezer. Link glanced over and laughed, “Look at that! They have the condoms right next to the frozen peas.”

Marth picked up a pair of boxes and stifled his laughter as he tossed one into the cart, and then handed the other one to Link. “Hey,” he started, picking up a few more boxes, “let’s go put these into random people’s carts!”

Link glanced back at him. “That’s so unlike you,” he stated, but then smirked and added, “but I never liked the other you to begin with.” He and Marth picked up as many boxes as they could carry, and then set off to go prank innocent people.

Roy scowled and yelled after them, “Fine, I don’t need you guys either!” He grumbled as he continued pushing the cart away and into another aisle. He glanced around at the racks of different soda brands. “Ehh,” he thought aloud, “we’ll just get one of each.”

Later, Link and Marth walked casually by another shopper while stifling their laughter. Link cautiously slipped a box into the customer’s shopping cart, and then burst out laughing. The elderly man turned around and stared confusedly at Link. Marth stopped laughing and elbowed Link in the side. “I’m having second thoughts,” Marth said.

Link looked back at his colleague confusedly as they proceeded to walk away from the elderly man. “Why?” he asked. “That was the last box. What’s done is done, right?”

Marth thought for a moment, then grinned. “Yeah, I guess.”

The pair halted as Roy suddenly charged in front of him with a full shopping cart. “There you guys are!” he shouted. “You know how long I was walking around picking up random stuff without any entertainment?”

“Sorry,” Marth replied. “So, are we done, or something?”

“You could say that,” Roy answered. “In fact, you could say that, yet again, I have done all the work while you guys run around and giggle like giddy schoolgirls.” He thought for a moment as he stared at Marth, and then rephrased his insult, “Prepubescent giddy schoolgirls.” Marth scowled, but Link only remained silent. “So, hurry up and get your premenstrual butts to the cash register,” Roy continued, pointing at the nearest station.

Marth and Link turned around and headed towards the nearest cash register as Roy shoved the hefty cart behind them. They stood in line behind the elderly man that they had previously pulled a prank on, and Marth and Link looked away nervously. Roy tapped his hand on the rear pole of the shopping cart. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he sneered. “We have approximately forty-five minutes until Dr. Phil is on.”

Link watched as the elderly man ahead of them lifted up the items from his cart and placed them onto the conveyor belt. “One package of eggs, one box of bran muffins…” The cashier was saying all of the items out loud as he scanned them. “One box of Cheerios, one box of condoms…” Marth winced and then elbowed Link as the elf began to laugh. “Another box of condoms…”

Marth’s eyes grew wide and he immediately turned to look at Link. Link shrugged confusedly. “I only put one in there,” he explained.

“Hurry it up, man!” Roy yelled, slamming his fist on the shopping cart. In a few moments, the cashier had accepted the elderly man’s check and he was ready for the next customer after the elderly man had placed the items into his shopping cart and departed from the station. “It’s about time,” Roy said, grimacing.

Link and Marth began lifting the random items out of their shopping cart onto the conveyor belt as the cashier simultaneously picked up the first items and scanned them. “One package of children’s underwear, one package of batteries, one bag of now melting frozen pasta…”

Marth strained to lift up a hefty box and place it onto the conveyor belt. Link grabbed several small items at a time and placed them onto the conveyor belt. Roy only stood back and watched as the cashier continued, “Two birthday cards, one bottle of non-prescription fiber supplements…”

Roy glanced at the cashier and nervously asked, “Would you mind not saying everything out loud? I, err… Marth here is very sensitive about those kinds of things.”

---

Luigi reentered his room and flicked the light switch into the On position. Then, he gasped at the sight of a humongous pile of randomized items lying in the northeast corner. He strolled over to it nervously and pulled out a soaking wet bag of frozen pasta. Then, he tossed it aside as he noticed a note taped onto the pile in a haphazard fashion and peeled it off. “Here’s your shopping for you,” Luigi read aloud. “And here’s your credit card back.”

Marth had been awaiting Luigi’s return in the air vents. He watched through the barred gate as Luigi read the note aloud, and then whispered into his walkie talkie, “The subject has read your stupid note.”

“Good,” Roy replied in a static voice from the opposite side of the line. “Initiate the credit card return operation.”

Marth lined up Luigi’s credit card with the vertical bars and then chucked it into the room, where it fell somewhere to the right side of its owner. Luigi glanced over and picked up his credit card, then shifted his attention back to the note as he continued reading, “Now you owe us approximately two hundred twelve dollars, plus a latte from Starbucks. Signed, Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Inc.”

Luigi sighed as he dropped the note to the floor and stared at the pile of random items. “Man,” he said, “Starbucks is so expensive…”