Mission 235: A Zirconium in the Rough

From Accct Wiki

Marth twitched and whimpered perkily as he rocked back and forth in the folding chair behind Roy’s desk, holding his hands near his face in apprehension as he muttered unintelligibly through his sniveling whines.

“Snap out of it!” Roy shrieked as he swung his open right hand across Marth’s cheek. “Snap out of it, man!”

“You… – urk… – killed them!” Marth managed to sputter through the barrage of whimpers. “You really-”

Roy interrupted Marth’s babble with another forceful smack to the cheek. “Get a hold of yourself!” he cried in frustration as he strained to grasp onto Marth’s shoulders while the swordsman retaliated with feverish spasms. “Knock it off, now!” Roy continued as he landed another slap across his colleague’s face. “You’re making yourself look like a crazy person.”

Marth continued to rock back and forth in the chair, his hands lowering slightly to chest level as his right cheek deepened into a reddish hue. “I’m not crazy,” Marth whimpered. “You’re crazy! You really… oh my God.” He surged from a spasm and then whined under his breath.

Roy grimaced and then glowered at Link, who was standing silently near the counter on which the stereo lay. “Get your butt over here and help me,” Roy commanded, narrowing his eyes at the elf. After Link had nervously approached him, Roy’s scowl eased as he ordered, “Now, hand me that lamp over there.”

Link allowed himself a moment to blink before he reached for the nearby nightstand and grasped the lamp. He then offered it towards Roy, and his fellow swordsman smirked while accepting the object into his right hand. Roy hesitated for a moment as he glared down at Marth’s paranoid fidgeting, and then shrugged before he readjusted his grasp onto the lampshade and then swung the base of the lamp at his colleague, which collided with his head and shattered into countless shards that scattered upon the floor in an unorganized fashion. Marth ceased in his fearful whimpering and spasms, and took a moment to recover from the daze the wallop had thrown him in before he blinked and then stared up at Roy in indignation.

“What the?” he cried as he immediately attached his hands to the location of the collision. “That really hurt.”

“It couldn’t be helped,” Roy declared, “since you were going insane. The last thing you want is to have ‘mentally unstable’ on your Super Smash Brothers record. I know.” Link directed a glance at Roy, and the redhead scoffed, “They said I was bipolar, those liars. I’m not bipolar! I just don’t know when and when not to be angry or happy.”

Marth rose to his feet and then removed one of his hands from its clutch in his hair. He glanced over it and muttered, “Is it bleeding?”

Link peered around his colleague’s head and then frowned, “No. Sorry for the bad news.”

“I’m not cleaning that up, either,” Roy stated, raising his eyebrows as he stared at the muddle of glass shards strewn about the floor. He laughed once to himself as he placed his hands upon his hips in confidence, and grinned, “That’s what we’ve got ‘Falco the janitor’ for!”

“What?” Marth lazily asked, slowly lowering his hands to his sides.

Roy nodded and continued, “I hired Falco to be our janitor, since you all make such big messes whenever we have to do a job.”

Marth stood staring with impassive eyes at his colleague as his jaw hung half-open. He blinked once and then muttered, “Link, find me another lamp. I’m not going to deal with this Class-A moron.”

“Dude, don’t talk about Falco behind his back, man,” Roy retorted. “How uncool.”

Link glanced in an unknown direction as he thought aloud, “How are you going to pay for Falco’s services?”

Roy shook his head while smugly sighing, “Link, Link, Link.” He lifted his head to stare at his colleague, and then continued, “ ‘Pay’ is such a strong word. I prefer the word ‘not pay.’ ”

“Don’t expect him to be working for you for very long, do you?” Marth questioned, sneering in frustration at his overconfident colleague. “And, while we’re on the topic of not having money to pay for anything, whatever happened to this so-called ‘paycheck’ that you keep threatening to take money out of?”

“That’s really none of your business, now is it, Marthy?” Roy retorted, perking up an eyebrow. “I would strongly suggest that you stop questioning me.”

Marth frowned and then heaved a tedious sigh. “You were doing so well for awhile there… not using the words ‘strongly suggest’ in the degrading things you say to me.”

Roy hesitated for a moment as he pondered Marth’s statement. “By God, you’re right,” he eventually concurred. “Remind me to keep doing it, since it’s fun.” He smirked to himself and then shouted, “You can come in now, Falco!”

The three swordsmen directed their attention to the closet, where one of the doors slowly slid to the side, allowing Falco to step outside nervously. Roy nodded as a subsequent smirk appeared across his face and then perked up his eyebrows as he turned his head to glower at Marth with confidence. “By the way, Marth,” Roy began, “I turned your closet into a janitor’s room.”

Marth scowled. “Gee, thanks for the heads-up.”

Roy provided a smug grin as he glanced at his colleague. “No problem,” he replied. He shifted his focus towards Falco, who clutched a mop and a partly filled bucket of water. With an abrupt scowl, he sneered, “Well, what are you waiting for, Falco? Get to work!”

Falco glanced around the room nervously, and then returned his attention to Roy as he sputtered, “There’s nothing here that needs cleaned.”

“Well, find something, and then clean it!” Roy spat. “Circular motion! None of this ‘sweeping’ crap.”

Falco glanced away in apprehension. Roy scoffed and then glowered at his colleagues as he continued, “Well, now that that’s all squared away, all we need to do now is wait for the phone to ring, and we’ll be in business!”

Marth’s eye twitched as he recalled past events. “I, uhh… don’t really think-”

“Shut up, Marth,” Roy interjected, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a say in this anymore. I sold your say on eBay.”

Link allowed himself a moment to blink before he asked, “How do we keep getting work if we keep screwing everything up?”

Roy gasped and stared indignantly at the accuser. “ ‘We’ don’t screw it up,” he responded, “Marth does.”

Marth grimaced and opened his mouth to retort Roy’s comment, but he was interrupted by the abrupt ringing of the telephone that pierced the relative unease of the room. Roy instantaneously bolted for the desk, where he immediately lifted the telephone out of its receiver and answered in a monotone manner, “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?”

Roy raised his eyebrows as he awaited any response from the caller. “Sir?” he eventually asked. “Ma’am? Undecided?”

“Hello,” the caller replied after several moments of hesitation. “I – well… Okay. I need you guys to help me with a job, even though I don’t really think very highly of you guys anymore after what I saw.”

“It was an accident!” Roy immediately shouted, nervously clenching the telephone in his hand. “I was young, and I needed the money! It’ll never happen again! You weren’t meant to see that! I’ll sue you!” He trailed off for a moment to recollect his thoughts, and then stated, “You know, I have a feeling I made this same nervous self-defense awhile ago to someone else…”

“Maybe you did,” the caller replied, “but I don’t really care either way.”

Roy rolled his eyes and then muttered, “Yeah, no one does anymore.” He paused to clear his throat and then continued, “So, I guess now would be the time for that funky speech thing that I always seem to either forget or neglect to do.”

There was a momentary pause from the caller. “Could you maybe just skip it this time?”

“Sure, why not?” Roy answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah… just tell me what it is. I’ve got a splitting headache from yelling at people.”

“Well,” the voice began slowly, heaving a sigh at the end, “I’ve had my jewelry stolen and I would really like it back.”

Roy snickered to himself as he glanced at Link with conceit. “Wow, Captain Falcon sure got back from the mental institution quickly, and he’s got a tank of helium!” He returned his focus to the telephone conversation and continued, “Hey, Captain Falcon, tell me where you’re hiding the helium! I’ll be needing my fix, and-”

“Captain Falcon?” the voice interjected with indignation. “This is Zelda calling, Roy.”

Roy hesitated and fidgeted slightly as a fretful smile ravaged his silence. “Oh,” he finally replied. “Well… then, uhh…”

“Do I really sound like a man?” Zelda asked, a tinge of hurt overlapping her voice.

“Sometimes,” Roy answered. He glanced at Link, who was staring confusedly at him, and choked out a nervous laugh before he continued, “But, that’s not a bad thing! Err, yeah! I bet Link rather enjoys it, actually. Am I right?”

Link’s eyes widened at the mention of his name. He turned apprehensively to face Marth and then questioned, “Who’s he talking to?”

“Who knows,” Marth said, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms in frustration. “He might as well be talking to himself; I wouldn’t care either way.”

Link formed a pouting expression as he glared at his colleague. “I really want to know, Marth,” he stated, pointing a nervous finger at Roy. “I don’t want this to be another clown incident.”

Marth hesitated. “ ‘Clown incident?’ ” he recurred, raising his eyebrows to contrast his confused frown.

“We don’t have to go into that one, either,” Link replied, lowering his head slightly in shame. “Let’s just say that-”

“Link, I don’t care.”

Roy bit his lip as he listened to Zelda’s request, and then sighed. “Alright, so, you’re missing your jewelry, you think it got stolen, there’s a sale at Target, and you want us to find it for you.” He lifted his excessively gauze-wrapped hand and studied it as he perused, “You’re sure you want us to do this? More often than not, Marth screws it.”

“I’ll bet Marth screws a lot of things,” Zelda replied in a snooty manner of implication.

“Well, I meant to say he ‘screws it up,’ but…” Roy hesitated for a moment to peer over his shoulder at the folding chair placed idly behind the desk, then returned his gaze to its previous subject and nodded, “You have no idea.”

Zelda paused for a moment, and Roy perked up his eyebrows at the sound of her faint whimpering noises. “I’m not sure I want to know,” she finally said.

“No, you don’t,” Roy confirmed as he placed his free hand carefully upon the edge of his desk. He glanced once at Marth, turned his head, and sputtered, “Well, I guess we’ll be there in a little while. Although, I’m not going to say much to you, you realize, because you reminded me of all the stuff I would not like to remember.” He shook his head as his expression cringed in disgust. “Shame on you.”

Roy slowly lowered the telephone and set it into its receiver. He remained leaning slightly upon the desk for a moment before he glanced up at his colleagues and shifted his gaze between them. He forced a nervous grin towards Marth and then held up a careful hand as he proclaimed, “We’re, uhh, going out now. Marth, try not to – oh, geez, I don’t even want to say it anymore.”

Marth scowled at his hesitant accuser and then spat, “You probably never should’ve said it in the first place, whatever it is.”

Roy shuddered and then shifted his focus to Link, who stood silently with his arms placed anxiously behind his back. Roy nodded once and then gestured towards the open doorway, mumbling, “Let’s get out of here.”

Falco watched from the opposite end of the room as Link and Roy proceeded through the open door and then disappeared behind the doorframe into the hallway. He looked up at Marth, who had his gaze fixed upon the floor. Falco took a few precarious steps towards the swordsman, offered the mop with one wing, and set the bucket down on the floor beside him with the other. “You know,” he began, “you could always trade places with me.”

“Yeah, right,” Marth retorted with a ridiculing sneer. “I’d rather be made fun for being ambiguous and have everything that goes wrong blamed on me than be a janitor for the jerks that make fun of me for being ambiguous and have everything that goes wrong blamed on me.”

Falco managed to frown as Marth sauntered past him through the doorway and into the hallway. He heaved a sigh and then placed the mop into the bucket of water, which then toppled over and spilled upon the floor. He glared down at the puddle of grubby water and then muttered, “Someone else will clean that up.”

Marth attempted to retain a casual stride as he gazed apprehensively ahead at his colleagues. Roy, who was strolling uneasily ahead of his blue-haired colleague in the hallway, glanced once over his shoulder to witness Marth. His eye twitching, he directed his gaze towards Link as he sputtered, “Hurry it up, Link. Marth’s coming, and I don’t have a bodyguard this time.”

Link lifted a directory out of his traditional video game hero storage… thing, and then held it near his face. “Err,” he began nervously, “I can’t read this thing, Roy. I thought I could read it awhile ago…”

“You’re hopeless!” Roy shouted in anxiety as he snatched the directory from Link’s grasp, hurrying his steps uneasily. As he stared at it in confusion and eventually spat, “Dude, I don’t know where Zelda’s room is!” He shoved the directory at his elf accomplice and continued in frustration, “You’re her freaking boyfriend, or whatever! You tell me where her room is!”

Link halted his haphazard walk and stared at the directory within his nervous clutches. Once Roy had stopped alongside him and begun to glower at him in anticipation, Link bit his lip and cocked his eyebrows as he admitted, “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Roy protested, his eyes widening in fury as he outstretched his arms.

Roy glanced over Link’s shoulder and gasped lightly at the sight of Marth standing with his arms folded, a peculiar stare plastered upon his face. Marth raised an eyebrow as he faintly grinned. “Room A-17,” he stated.

Roy hesitated and allowed himself a few moments to blink. Link continually stared down at the directory in his grasping hands and retained a puzzled expression. Roy blinked once more and then stared at Link as he pointed an accusing finger at their colleague, shouting, “Why didn’t you know that, but he does?”

“Roy,” Link whimpered, holding the directory near his face in unsteadiness, “you’re stressing too many words…”

As Roy ceased the accusation and lowered his hand, Link parted the directory from his worried expression and then heaved a sigh of relief. He glanced once at the now indifferent Roy, then turned his head to peer over his shoulder, where he snickered lightly to himself at the sight of Marth. “Oh,” he said, “that’s who you were talking about.”

Roy grimaced and questioned, “Who did you think I was talking to, the wall?”

Link hesitated. “Yeah.”

“You’re an idiot,” Marth declared in a monotone manner. Link glanced over his shoulder at his accuser.

Roy nodded to himself as he stared at Link. “I hate to agree with Marth,” he began, tapping his chin with the index finger on his uninjured hand, “so, I won’t.”

“You mean,” Link began, wide-eyed, “you don’t think I’m an idiot?”

“Oh no, I do,” Roy responded reassuringly, “I just don’t want to agree with Marth.”

Marth scowled. Roy rolled his eyes and then began to study his gauze-infested hand as he ordered, “Link, just find Room A-17 on the stupid directory so we can get back to business, please.”

Link allowed himself a moment to clear his throat before he unfurled the slightly crumpled directory and then examined it contently. Roy impatiently waited as he shifted his attention from his injured hand to his colleague, muttered under his breath, and eventually used his opposite hand to backhand Link’s arm. The elf flinched and then glared pleadingly at Roy, who scowled and commanded, “Find the stupid room, Link! Can’t you count?”

Link smiled weakly as he answered, “Not since third grade.”

Roy grimaced and snatched the directory from his colleague with his available hand. “You’re utterly useless, you know that?” he sneered as he thrust the directory towards Marth. “You find the room,” he ordered, folding his arms once Marth had reluctantly accepted the paper, “I’m over my counting limit for today.”

Marth stared at the directory and hesitated before he glanced up from it at the infuriated Roy. The red-haired executive frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but the abrupt clamor of a door slamming against the wall next to him interrupted his retaliation.

Zelda stood in the doorway, unthinkingly crying, “Would you people shut up out…” As she trailed off, the immediate stares from the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated forced her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. After a moment of hesitation, she alternated her glances between the trio of swordsmen and muttered, “I suppose Link had trouble finding my room again.”

Roy remained silent as he snatched the directory from Marth and then stuffed it hurriedly into Link’s traditional video game hero storage… thing. Link gasped and sputtered, “Hey! That’s a personal-”

He halted in his sentence to face Zelda, who was staring at him with a peculiarly shocked expression. “We don’t do this regularly,” he clarified, smiling nervously as he held his hands at chest-level, “only on Wednesd-”

“Link, shut up,” Marth interjected, elbowing the elf in the side.

Zelda held up a hand and heaved a sigh as she shook her head. “No, it’s alright,” she began, her hand descending to her side, “I’m used to it.”

Marth blinked. “You are?”

Zelda merely shook her head. Roy smirked to himself and swiftly clasped his hands together. “Oww,” he said, wincing as he separated his hands once more. He glowered at his gauze-enveloped hand, then glanced at Zelda with a recuperating smirk. “Anyway,” he began, gesturing towards the open doorway which their client was obstructing, “we’re here for your little mission thingy-mabobber.”

She paused to smooth the front of her dress with her gloved hand, and then directed an accusing glare at Roy. “Do you even remember what it was I asked you to do?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes.

Roy huffed in offense, held up an affirmative index finger, and protested, “How dare you! Of course I remember what you wanted us to do!” He fell silent, index finger protruding into the air, and then scrappily continued, “You lost your pet turtle, or something.”

“No,” Zelda scoffed, sneering at him in irritation, “I had my jewelry stolen!”

“Right,” Roy confirmed as he nodded his head once and allowed his arm to fall into its designated resting place at his side. “And, jewelry happens to be…?”

Zelda irately removed one of her earrings and then extended her hand to display the object. “See this?” she asked. “This is called an earring!”

“Well, why the hell are you showing me that if we’re supposed to look for your jewelry?” Roy questioned.

Marth managed a concentrated sigh. Zelda rolled her eyes and returned her earring to its rightful place, muttering, “Well, perhaps one of you will know what I’m talking about when I said that I had my favorite ring stolen.”

“ ‘Ring…’ ” Roy repeated, narrowing his eyes as he thought. “Nope, nothing’s coming to mind. Running low on capacity up there.”

Link scanned over Zelda’s hand and shyly whimpered, “Zelda, you’re wearing the ring that I bought for you. That’s not your favorite?”

She lifted her hand and stared at it, then shrugged and replied, “Well, all my other rings are sitting on display in the ‘more than twenty-five dollar’ jewelry box.”

“But, you’re wearing it,” Link retorted, “and that’s good enough for me.”

“Don’t aim very high, do you?” Marth asked.

Sensing her aggravation, Roy stepped forward and lightly clasped his hands on Zelda’s shoulders. He grinned widely and declared, “Don’t worry, we’ll find your little ‘ring’ thingy!” His smile gradually faded as he witnessed her frightened expression. “We’re just going to need you to leave for awhile so that we can – err… investigate. Yeah, that word.”

Zelda fidgeted in Roy’s grip and blinked at him, though she said nothing. Marth stepped before Link and questioned, “Do you have any idea who might’ve stolen your ring?”

“No, not really,” she answered solemnly. “Roy, let go of me before I have another sexual harassment lawsuit filed against you.”

Marth cocked an eyebrow. “Another?” he thought aloud. He glanced at Link, who remained passive and oblivious to the situation at hand.

Zelda glanced away from Roy until he eventually released his grip upon her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, seemingly relieved.

Roy gave a half-laugh. “I just don’t need another one of those things on my record,” he explained as he placed his hands upon his hips. “You’re lucky this time.”

“Your record must be tarnished by now,” Marth interjected, causing both Zelda and Roy to direct their individual attention at him. “I mean, you’re apparently bipolar, you’ve got a sexual harassment case on it, and-”

“Sexual harassment?” Link interrupted with a sudden zeal. “It wasn’t me!”

Roy’s perplexed interest faded into a glare of indifference. “Link, you’re completely out of it today,” he stated with a tinge of sympathy. He hesitated, and eventually became enraged, shouting, “Stop talking before I smack you upside the head with a paper shredder!”

Zelda muttered under her breath. She glanced at Roy, shook her head, and then interjected, “Roy, I’m going to just… leave. Please try your best to do what I asked, and please don’t make me regret it later.” She proceeded past him and began heading down the hallway with her head lowered in humiliation.

“You know,” Roy began, tapping a finger on his chin as he thought, “we should make a ‘No Guarantees’ policy, where-”

“No more of your idiotic ideas, Roy!” Marth cried, gesturing toward the open doorway. “They just never work, so can we please just get on with this?”

Roy’s expression cringed with disgust as he whimpered, “Now I remember why I didn’t want you following me. You’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you? Something-”

“No, Roy, I am not hitting on you,” Marth interrupted, narrowing his eyes as he glowered at his colleague.

Roy hesitated and then frowned. “Are you sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, I won’t make judgments or…”

“No!”

Roy pouted with arrogance as he looked away. “Fine, then.” He proceeded into Room A-17 and then glanced around with an exuberant smirk. He pointed at Zelda’s latent desk and then concluded, “I know what happened! The ‘ring’ was on that desk, and Luigi stole it.”

“Why would Luigi do it?” Link asked as he followed Roy into the room. He halted at Roy’s side and then continuously scanned over the room.

Roy snorted. “Everything’s Luigi’s fault! He’s plotting against me, I tell you.”

Marth eventually pursued his colleagues and halted on the opposite side of Roy, who nonchalantly inched away from him. Marth frowned, but glanced at the assorted objects and furniture within the room. At the sight of a lonesome vanity, he nodded to himself and then casually strolled toward it, afterward inspecting the open jewelry box sitting atop the table. “Here’s our first clue,” he declared, motioning for the others to witness the suspicion. “The jewelry box is open, and a few necklaces are thrown over the edge of it a little bit; only someone in a hurry would leave their jewelry in such a haphazard condition.”

Roy perked up an eyebrow as he drew alongside Marth. “How would you know?” he questioned.

“I prefer not to tell you,” Marth replied.

“Suit yourself,” Roy shrugged. “I’ll just take it off your paycheck.”

Link approached the vanity and halted on the opposite side of Marth. “Hey, I got her that one,” he said happily. As he continued to examine the tousled jewelry, he frowned as he lifted a small, golden pendant. “I wonder where she got this one,” he thought aloud. Marth smiled weakly to himself and took a step away from Link.

Roy pouted and shoved Marth with his right hand. “This is stupid,” he stated. “Let’s just go raid Luigi’s room.”

“Can you not just think things through at least once?” Marth inquired, indignant. “This is an important clue! In fact, I’m betting that if we could get fingerprints from this, then we’d really be in business!”

“Business, you say?” Roy replied with an increasing interest. “Well, I believe that we can acquire the fingerprints using this… washcloth.” He reached into Link’s traditional video game hero storage… thing and then lifted out a washcloth, chortling to himself as he restrained it within the air.

Link blushed. “Some warning next time might be nice, Roy…”

“Shut up, Link.”

Roy nudged Marth to the side and then proceeded to swab the washcloth across the surface of the vanity and the jewelry box. Before Marth had an opportunity to react, Roy retracted the washcloth, the job completed, and then scowled at the unchanged state. “Dude,” he muttered, releasing the washcloth and letting it descend to the floor beside him, “that was pointless.”

“What in the world were you thinking?” Marth cried as he stared at the impaired evidence.

“I don’t know!” Roy retorted, stamping his foot upon the floor in frustration. “I don’t watch C.S.I. or any of that crap!”

Marth choked out whimpering noises, and Roy grimaced. Link placed the pendant into the jewelry box and then turned around to face his colleagues. “I think I’ve got an idea,” he said. “I noticed that Samus seemed to be interested in the-”

“How can you expect me to watch television?” Roy interjected, his fury directed at Marth. “I have no spare time!”

Marth huffed, “You have no spare time because you’re always busy running this stupid thing!”

Link hesitated and bit his lip as he witnessed his associates initiate a quarrel. He glanced away for a brief moment, then retracted his attention to the other swordsmen as the blue-haired one cried, “You’re such an idiot!”

“Hey!” Roy yelled, snarling. “If you hate it so much, you can just leave!”

“I tried that already!” Marth retorted with confidence perforating his anger. “You wanted me to come back so badly for some reason, and then you treat me like this?”

Roy paused. “Oh yeah,” he eventually began, nodding to himself, “you’re the poster child.”

Marth’s expression altered into one of astonishment as he sputtered, “I’m what?”

Before Roy had an opportunity to reply, Link lifted a nervous hand as a peace accord and apprehensively interjected, “Guys, I think I have an idea of who may have taken Zelda’s ring.”

Roy pouted and placed his hands upon his hips in frustration. “You moron, Link!” he shouted, raising one of his hands and shaking it angrily at his colleague. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Marth frowned and crossed his arms as he perked up an eyebrow. Roy shot an accusing glare at Marth, sighed, and then lowered his fist. “You know,” he solemnly began, “I would listen to you more often if you talked more.”

“Maybe if you showed a little interest…” Link responded with embarrassment. He remained silent for a moment as Marth returned his vacant stare, and then continued, “Well, I think that Samus may have something to do with it. Last time I saw Samus hanging out with Zelda, she seemed to be pretty interested in the ring.”

An unsettling silence descended upon the room, and Link blinked as he awaited Roy’s response. The injured swordsman was staring in an unknown direction at a randomly placed end table, but glanced up when Link cleared his throat as an uncomfortable indication. Roy raised his eyebrows in unconcern. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Marth rolled his eyes, and Link directed his gaze at Roy with an allusion of impatience. “Roy,” he began once again, “I said that…”

Link trailed off when he witnessed Roy turn his head and glance around the room. After a moment of peculiar silence, Roy returned his attention to Link and frowned as he accused, “What are you waiting for? Who’s got Zelda’s stupid ‘ring?’ ”

Link hesitated, and then gesticulated as he spoke: “I think it might’ve been Samus. She seemed to have an interest in the ring last time she was hanging out with Zelda.”

Roy blinked. “Link,” he furiously said, “that doesn’t tell me a frickin’ thing!”

Marth immediately protested, “It’s more information than you’ve acquired about anything during any previous investigation!”

Roy stared vacantly at his accuser. “What?” he questioned, frowning. “Use English, please.”

“Geez. When I’m finally useful, Roy decides to hate me,” Link sighed.

“I don’t hate you,” Roy replied impassively. “I hate Marth.”

Marth clenched his hands into fists, but his retaliation was interrupted by Roy’s persistence with, “In any case, we should probably go find Samus, then.”

“There’s an idea,” Marth responded, his hands releasing from their furious fists. “It took you long enough, Roy.”

Roy had been examining his gauze-wrapped hand during Marth’s accusation. He blinked and then glimpsed Marth, muttering, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“You have a short attention span,” Marth replied, crossing his arms.

Roy gasped in offense. “I do no-… hey, look! I’ve got a roll of gauze on my hand…!” He paused for a moment of reflection, and then continued, “Oh, that’s right. I shot myself, didn’t I? Well, I suppose I could blame it on Marth, like I always do.” He hesitated. “I wonder what’s on T.V. later.”

Marth remained silent and stared at his scatterbrained colleague. Link smiled to himself and then giddily turned towards Marth. “Maybe Roy’s going to use my idea once he comes out of his little short attention span thing!” he cried gleefully. At Marth’s vacant stare being redirected at him, Link’s smirk widened as he continued, “That is, if he ever does come out of it.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t, and we’ll make a run for it while we still can,” Marth responded as he uncrossed his arms to gesture towards the open doorway.

“Nobody’s going to be doing any running, unless it’s me running from those frickin’ cops,” Roy interjected, taking steps toward his colleagues with a condemning finger pointed at Marth. When the other swordsmen began to gaze at their colleague, Roy nodded to himself and then proclaimed, “To Samus’ room!”

Another awkward silence perforated the room. Marth scowled and asked, “Do we even know where her room is?”

Roy glowered at Link, who merely shook his head before he decided to lift the directory out of his traditional video game hero storage… thing. He glanced over the directory for a moment, and then grinned as he concluded, “Room A-17!”

Marth slapped his forehead with an open palm. “No, Link, you moron,” he sputtered, “that’s what room we’re in right now!”

“It is?” Link inquired stupidly. “Oh… well, then I really can’t read this thing.” He shoved it towards Marth, who reluctantly accepted it and unfolded it. Link deviously grinned as he watched Marth scan over it a couple times. “Not so easy, is it, Marth?” he questioned with a critical smirk.

“Room A-19,” Marth declared.

Link’s smile faded into a sulk as he stated, “Touché.”

“For stealing my word, I have nothing to say to you,” Roy sneered at Link. “Except for that. …And that.”

“What about that?” Marth asked.

Roy nodded. “No, that last one was intended for him,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. With a faint grin appearing across his lips, he clasped his hands together gently and then said, “Well! I suppose now would be the time to leave for Samus’ room, since I’m still thinking about it.”

Link gave a thumbs-up. “I infer!” he pronounced.

Roy glanced away during the silence that followed, then wordlessly proceeded past his colleagues into the hallway. Link worriedly pursued, leaving Marth standing by his lonesome in Zelda’s room. His right eye twitched when he caught sight of a Hanson poster, at which he instantly turned around and trailed his colleagues. He sauntered hurriedly behind them, muttering under his breath, “It took me long enough to see that.”

Link halted in the hallway before a door with a plaque on it that read Room A-19. Roy stopped behind his associate and then grinned, while Marth halted on the opposite side of Link. Marth folded the directory paper multiple times and then stuffed it into one of the pockets of his suit’s slacks with his hand, then glanced at Link. Roy nudged Link aside with his shoulder and then swung the door open, shouting, “Samus! We’re here to get back that ‘ring’ thingy you apparently stole!”

As Roy strolled casually in the room, he glanced once at Samus, who was standing on her desk with a noose around her neck, and then placed his hands upon his hips as he halted near an end table and began to focus on the alarm clock sitting atop it. Link followed Roy and stood beside him like a loyal dog. Marth, in turn, sauntered into the room, and then gasped in horrific shock as he witnessed Samus. “What are you doing?” he worriedly asked as he dashed towards her.

“I can’t take it anymore,” she replied, tightening the slip knot of the noose around her neck. “I can’t get out of my suit, I can’t leave my room, I can’t do anything anymore.”

“And you speak in a monotone voice, too,” Roy added as he turned his attention to the desperate bounty hunter. “Do you have autism?”

Marth pointed furiously at Roy and shouted, “What’s wrong with you?”

Roy shrugged and replied, “I lost count of them.” He redirected his focus to Samus and inquired, “Say, Samus, would you mind telling us where Zelda’s ‘ring’ is?”

“It’s right there,” she answered, pointing towards the dresser. “I was going to return it… maybe.”

Roy smirked. “That was easy. What a pleasant surprise.”

Marth was aghast at Roy’s inconsiderateness and watched as the red-haired swordsman nonchalantly strolled towards the dresser and picked up a lonesome ring. Marth took advantage of the uneasy moment and leapt upon the desk chair and then onto the desk, where he unsheathed his sword and sliced the lynching rope. After the noose-end of the rope had descended onto Samus’ torso, Marth retracted his sword into its holster and hurriedly questioned, “Samus, why were you trying to hang yourself?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she answered, deadpan. Samus cautiously pulled the remnants of the noose over her head and then allowed it to fall into the small trash can beside the desk. “I’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”

At that mention, Link perked up with a sudden interest. “Try again?” he asked, a genuine tone of sympathy overlapping his voice.

“Yeah,” Samus replied, nodding her head once. “It never seems to work.”

Marth’s eyes grew wide. “Samus, you need help!” he cried, placing consoling hands upon her forearm.

“This isn’t a bad looking ‘ring,’ ” Roy said to himself. He turned around and suspended it in the air between his index finger and thumb to display it for his colleagues. “See? Isn’t this nice? I’ll bet I go to that ‘jewelry store’ thing down the street and get it appraised.”

Marth grimaced and glowered at his cruel colleague in a rage. “You are a complete-”

“Genius!” Roy interrupted. “I know! My God, I should write a book, or something…”