Mission 239: Sing Your Puff Out

From Accct Wiki

Marth shadily eyed his sneering colleague from across the room as his Link began to unravel a roll of gauze. His eye twitched, reddened cheeks swollen, and he callously sputtered, “So, Roy, remind me exactly why you decided not to ‘finish me off,’ like you had sworn to do?”

Roy shifted in his seated position atop a counter and crossed his bruised arms, staring through a black eye as he merely huffed in response. Link raised his eyebrows and began applying the gauze onto Marth’s bare arm. “I think Roy’s mad at you,” Link whispered as he leant down toward Marth’s ear. As the blue-haired swordsman perked up an eyebrow as a reaction, Link merely smiled and continued enwrapping Marth’s arm in gauze.

Roy scowled as he witnessed his colleagues, and eventually raised a quivering palm as he replied, “You’re not worth the time, I figured.”

Marth hesitated and then forced a smirk. “How do you figure that, exactly?”

“Look,” Roy blundered as he unfolded his arms and placed them loosely upon the edge of the countertop, “I’m pissed off right now, but not pissed off enough to get my lazy butt off the counter to go kick your ass.” He sighed, his explanation concluded, and perked an eyebrow as he glared at his now bewildered colleague. “Marth, I trust you will remind me to kick your ass in the near future.”

Marth grimaced. “It’s on my list of things to do,” he sneered, “right after I finally get around to changing the wallpaper in this room.”

Link grinned to himself as he clasped the end of the gauze onto Marth’s arm. “Really?” he asked innocently, smiling heartily as Marth turned to face him. “I thought that purple tulips were kinda’ your thing.”

Marth scoffed, “No, I’m not into them.” He hesitated. “…Anymore.”

Roy blinked once as he looked away uninterestedly. His arms returned to their crossed position, and his brow drooped in frustration. Marth’s gaze redirected itself toward his angry colleague, slightly tinged with unease. “Roy,” he began, his voice seemingly consoling, “why don’t we forget about it, and I’ll make sure that Link never does something stupid like that again?”

Link halted his hand and released the excess gauze as Roy glanced at Marth and forced a smirk. Link grimaced and whimpered, “Marth, don’t say things like that to me!” He rubbed a sore cheek with his hand and sniffed. Marth remained silent, and Link’s schizophrenia began to kick in: “Marth, if you ever say anything like that to me again, I’ll beat you like a red-headed stepchild!”

Marth’s eyes grew wide as they instantly shifted to the frustrated Link. Roy in turn narrowed his eyes and slapped his right hand unto his kneecap as he spat, “That hurts, man. That hurts…”

Link bit his lip and raised his eyebrows with concern. “I’m sorry, Roy-”

“Just, shut up for awhile, will ya’, Link?” Roy pleaded, rolling his eyes afterward. “I can only stand your senseless babbling for three hours, and then it starts to get really old, pal.”

Marth remained silently contemplating whether or not to voice his own opinion. Link bit his lip as he regained a nervous notion of unease. The elf smiled weakly as his colleague eyed him furiously from across the room, and eventually uttered with apprehension, “Roy, I didn’t think that I was-”

“Shut up, I said!” Roy interrupted, raising a quivering fist. “Or, if you’d rather, at least change your voice or something; then, I wouldn’t feel as compelled to get off my lazy butt to kick yours every time you open your mouth.”

Link tapped a finger to his chin as a peculiar thought scampered into his subconscious. He grinned shakily, teeth wistfully peeking through parted lips, and strolled toward Marth’s dresser, where he casually opened a drawer and began to scour through the various materials within it. As Marth’s eyebrows depressed to accompany his confused expression, Link lifted a small yellow microphone and displayed it for Roy, who gawked at the object, though uninterestedly. An awkward silence followed, pierced only by Roy’s subsequent words: “Link, what the hell is that thing?”

Link’s smile faded slightly. “It’s a toy microphone,” he replied, smirking heartily, “which I stole from Young Link a couple days ago. I thought it was cool.” He clicked a switch on the surface, held the microphone near his exuberant smile, and proceeded to demonstrate the uniqueness of the object: “Hi, my name is Link,” his voice screeched with a high-pitched tone, causing Marth to squint his eyes and Roy to clasp his injured hands over his ears in horror. Link lowered the microphone and shut an eye as he glanced between his two colleagues. “Isn’t that cool?” he inquired, clasping his hands together, the toy microphone imprisoned between them.

Marth merely directed his gaze toward Roy, whom scowled and pointed a finger at the elf, accusing, “Dude, that thing sounds like a gym teacher on speed!” He returned his hand to the edge of the counter he was placed atop, and then shifted his seated position to allow his calves to rest beside his thighs. “When I said ‘change your voice,’ I meant ‘change your voice,’ not ‘make yourself sound like a crack-addicted two-year-old.’ ”

“Sorry,” Link whimpered, his arms slowly lowering to his sides, the microphone clasped loosely in the right.

Marth caressed his chin as he pondered aloud, “Link, why was that in my underwear draw-”

“Nobody’s calling,” Roy complained aloud, immediately halting Marth’s question. He rubbed a sore left hand with its right correspondent, sighed, and looked up with seemingly sorrowful eyes as he continued, “I can’t help but think this is all your fault, Marth, yet again.”

Marth narrowed his eyes and then crossed his arms. “Of course,” he retorted, glancing away. “It’s always my fault when you decide to do something stupid, like start a fire at some random office supplies store.” He shook his head as he recalled the incident, and then uncrossed his arms to point an index finger questioningly at his colleague. “How did you get there, anyway, Roy?”

Roy glanced at the ceiling panels, then grinned hazily as he returned his gaze to his accuser. “I hitchhiked,” he answered smugly.

Marth cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really?” he replied, a curious tinge of a smirk appearing across his lips.

“Well,” Roy began, directing his gaze elsewhere, “if you’re too unadventurous to believe that story, then God knows you don’t want to know how I really got there.”

Marth hesitated. “Yeah, you’re right on that one,” he responded, nodding once. During the awkward silence that followed, Link cleared his throat and then smiled timidly. Marth shook his head as he continued to stare at his red-haired colleague, muttering, “I… fear the day you have children.”

Roy grimaced. “I fear your mom!” he retorted in frustration.

“Why does everyone say things about my mother?” Marth pondered.

Roy sighed, rolling his eyes. Marth shrugged and then began to unfurl his suit sleeve overtop his newly gauze-enwrapped arm until it was positioned in its natural stature. Roy stared through his black eye, blinking several times until Marth was finished adjusting his suit. “You are such an obsessive-compulsive S.O.B.,” he uttered. When Marth shot an accusing glance at him, Roy smirked and continued, “Though, I suppose a ‘Source of Blame’ would really have to be slightly obsessive-compulsive to have a job like taking care of his own messes.”

Marth rose from his seat in the folding chair to reply, but he was interrupted by the abrupt ring of the telephone placed atop the desk beside him. Six eyes instantaneously darted toward the object, and Roy was the first to react. Neglecting to place his feet forward, he tumbled to the floorboards, blinked woozily, and then rose uneasily before staggering toward the telephone. He casually lifted it from its receiver, placed it smugly against his ear, 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?”

Roy narrowed his eyebrows during the silence that followed. “I said, ‘How may we help you today?’ ” he growled. “I’m not psychic! I can’t read your mind through the freakin’ telephone, pal! So, fess up now, or I’m going to have to find out where you live and then get my chainsaw so that I can-”

Marth elbowed his colleague in the side and scowled. Roy grumbled to himself and turned away, leaning his elbow upon the desk as he rested his chin upon his palm. “Yeah, my bad,” he muttered into the telephone, lightly scratching a scab upon his cheek with his opposite hand.

During the next silence that followed, Roy pouted and sleepily shut his eyes. When a slightly high-pitched tone of a voice pierced the quiet, Roy immediately reopened his eyes and hopefully sputtered, “Are you there, whoever you are?”

“Jiggly!” came a shrill voice.

Roy blinked. “Mewtwo, did you have one-too-many margaritas this morning?” He hesitated. “…At least tell me I’m not the only one who does that.”

“Jig, Jiggly!” the caller repeated.

“…Who’s gay?” Roy questioned, relocating his hand to his forehead. “I can’t understand you at all, Mr. Jerkbag. Get that rupee out of your pants and try again.”

There was a hesitation from the caller. “Jiggly…?”

Roy slammed his fist onto the table, then shrieked in pain. Once he had calmed himself, he irately threatened, “Listen here, you fairy! I’ve got better things to do than listen to your constipation noises, okay?”

“Jiggly!” the caller repeated, this time with frustration.

“Screw you, too, pal!” Roy yelped, and then slammed the telephone into its receiver.

As Roy huffed and stood up straight, lazily brushing back loose bangs with his right hand, Marth crossed his arms and cocked and eyebrow as he glared at his colleague. “Well, who’s got you so pissed off today, Roy?” he inquired, blinking once as if to signal his haughtiness.

Roy placed his hands on his hips and slightly snorted in initial response. “Mewtwo thinks he can call me to complain his bowel problems,” he huffed, his lips pouting in frustration. “I mean, geez, I don’t want to hear it, man! That’s what they’ve got those help lines for.”

Marth remained silent for a moment as he raised a curious index finger to his chin. “Somehow, Roy, I seriously doubt that Mewtwo would call you… for anything.”

Roy scowled. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

Marth’s eyes grew wide as his expression faded into one of grave seriousness. “Where to begin, Roy? Where to begin…?” He grinned to himself as he parted his index finger from his chin and extended it slightly until it pointed toward the ceiling panels. “You’ve got serious mental issues, for one,” he began, raising his eyebrows. “Not to mention the fact that you’re a total jerk that nobody really wants to be around.”

Link bit his lip. “Marth, I don’t think-”

“Hold on a second, Link, I’m not done,” Marth interjected, lightly waving his open palm in the elf’s direction. “Now, where was I?”

“You were about to go jump in front of a semi-truck, you bastard!” Roy furiously retorted, pointing a livid finger at his blue-haired colleague.

Link shook his head and then faced Marth, whimpering slightly, “You guys are fighting again…”

“I haven’t even begun fighting, man,” Roy sneered, forming a loose fist with his right hand.

Marth grimaced. “You’re just lucky the restraining order doesn’t come into effect until next month.”

Roy folded his arms and looked away, defensively observing Link through exhausted eyes. Link merely smiled nervously and placed his hands behind his back, timidly clutching the toy microphone between them. Roy narrowed his eyes, placing one hand beneath his chin and the other beneath its opposite’s adjoining elbow for support. Marth sighed amidst the silence, causing each of his fellow colleagues to turn their respective gazes in his direction. “Well, let’s just get down to business, please,” he frowned. “Roy, can you just tell us what Mewtwo said?”

“Pfft,” Roy spat, “yeah. All he said was, ‘Oh, look at me, I’m a loser! Jiggly, jiggly, jiggly!’ I wanted to shake him and say, ‘Too much Jell-o will do that to you, dumbass…’ ”

“ ‘Jiggly?’ ” Marth repeated, dumbfounded. “Did the thought ever cross your mind that that voice might’ve come from someone whose name is, oh, I don’t know… Jigglypuff?”

Roy blinked. “No.”

Marth slapped his forehead with his hand. “Of course it wouldn’t…”

Link slowly allowed his hands to reemerge at his sides. Marth lowered his hand and continued to stare at Roy. The redhead smirked to himself and then smugly declared, “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, – don’t you dare say anything, Marth, or I’ll kill you – maybe…” He hesitated. “Maybe it was Jigglypuff.”

Marth gave a half-laugh. “Well, well!” he began, throwing his arms behind his head smugly. “Looks like I was right on something, huh, Roy?”

“Like hell you were!” Roy spat, pointing a condemning finger at his colleague. “You all saw it! My idea! Mine!”

Marth’s hands descended to his sides as he slightly narrowed his eyes. Link gave a thumbs-up and cheerfully agreed, “I saw it, Roy! You stole Marth’s idea fair and square!”

“Darn right!” Roy pronounced, nodding triumphantly. “…Wait, what?”

“Nothing,” Link whimpered through an apprehensive grin.

“Yeah, nothing,” Roy sneered. “You’d better keep it that way, or else I’m going to have to wring your neck.” He shook his head. “Then who’ll have to clean up all that blood? Poor Falco. Think about what you’ll be causing, Link…”

Link glanced toward the lonesome closet, then redirected his eyes toward Roy. “I have thought about it before, Roy,” he confessed worriedly, “and I don’t like it very much.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you don’t, weirdo,” Roy replied, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got more issues than me, man. Normally, right about now, I’d use that stupid ‘subscription’ joke, but at the moment I’m too pissed off and prudish… and lustful…”

Link took a precarious step back, and Marth’s eyes grew wide as he immediately glanced at his confessing colleague. Roy shifted his gaze between his two perturbed coworkers, then grimaced and sputtered, “Not for you two, sheesh! Get over yourselves; I’m not that desperate…”

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Link sighed, placing a hand over his chest in relief.

Marth remained silent. Roy grinned to himself and folded his arms as he stated, “I’ll bet you’re a bit disappointed, though, aren’t you, Marthy?”

Marth looked away and made a gesticulation toward Link, muttering, “Just… find out where Jigglypuff’s room is, please.”

Roy allowed himself a step forward to tap Link on the shoulder, accompanied by a casual grin, and then proceeded past him toward the west wall. Link timidly placed the toy microphone into his traditional video game hero storage… thing before scouring through it for the directory. Eventually, he lifted it from the storage… thing, and then restrained it before his eyes as he tried in desperation to hurriedly complete his task. “Roy?” he eventually sputtered, raising his eyebrows with apprehension. “I can’t really read this thing. I spilled ketchup on it yesterday.”

Roy halted and spun around, hands placed carelessly behind his back, and cocked an eyebrow. “Since when do you use ketchup?” he questioned, then instantly became enraged, clenching his hands into fists as he strained them at his sides. “Did you steal my technique, Link?”

Link stared back at his fuming colleague and blinked. “…What are you talking about, Roy?”

Roy hesitated, his eyes shifting back and forth as if swaying to a notion of recognition during the period of unease. “Nothing,” he responded, standing up straight. He straightened the collar of his suit jacket nervously, and then strolled toward Link, snatching the directory from the elf’s quivering fingers before studying it cautiously. “This thing doesn’t make much sense to me either,” he admitted, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“You’re an idiot,” Marth sighed.

“You’re a pansy-ass loser who probably cuts himself late at night,” Roy retorted, neglecting to glare over his shoulder at his accuser.

Marth hesitated. “Touché.”

Roy intently examined the directory, then lowered it and snickered to himself. As Link began to stare in confusion, Roy shoved the directory toward his gawking colleague and grinned, murmuring, “I know where Jigglypuff’s room is.” Link’s expression altered into one of pleasant hope. “We had a crazy party last Saturday,” Roy continued, smirking as Link’s gentle smile began to fade. “It was actually pretty awesome; there was booze, and girls, and confetti, and booze-”

“Sounds like a grand ol’ time,” Marth muttered, sinking his chin into his palm. “I hope you didn’t get as wasted as you did that time when you actually slept with the poor girl.”

Roy bit his lip. “…That was last Saturday.”

“For shame.”

Link tapped a finger to his bottom lip as he thought aloud, “Then, maybe Jigglypuff is calling for her child support money.”

“What, again?” Roy spat, glowering at Link, whom merely shrugged in response.

Marth fell silent and sauntered toward his fellow colleagues, his expression void of emotion. He slowly turned his head to gaze at Roy, sighed, and whispered, “I hate you… so much… and you… have no idea.”

“Like I’d really want to know anyway, Marthy,” Roy protested. “Remind me later to have Link pull your head out of your ass so that you might actually be of significance to society.”

Marth blinked. “You spend all night coming up with that one?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes.

“Twice,” Roy muttered, grinning as he turned away from his frustrated accuser to face Link. “Anyway, Link, I want you to remember that, okay? It’s important – if Marth doesn’t get his head out of his ass soon, God knows what’ll happen to him. He might even turn as stupid as you, though that’s stretching it a bit, no?”

Link stared blankly during the silence that followed. After several moments of silent contemplation, he muttered, giving a half-salute, “Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen. Nobody’s stupid enough to replace me.”

Roy raised his eyebrows and glanced at Marth, whom had a puzzled expression. “You catch on quickly, don’t you?” he said, smiling as he returned his attention to his elfin colleague.

Link was glaring in a different direction by the time Roy had turned his head to resume his speech. Link hesitated for a moment before redirecting his gaze toward the redhead, blinking a few times before sputtering, “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“Of course not,” Roy mumbled, raising an open palm. After a moment of awkward silence, he heaved a sigh and then continued slothfully, “Well, I suppose you dorks had better get to Jigglypuff’s room-”

“You’re coming, too,” Marth interjected, placing a hand upon his colleague’s shoulder.

Roy gave a half-laugh. “I’m not going anywhere near that psychotic weirdo puffball thing,” he hissed, his brow drooped in frustration.

“That’s what you said about Kirby the other day,” Link chimed in, “but you still talk to him and stuff, don’t you?”

“It’s called ‘negotiating,’ my dear Link,” Roy replied. “The loser did take my soul, after all.” A subsequent silence forced Roy to scowl and mutter, “Just… hurry it up, why don’t you? God, I hate you guys…”

Marth rolled his eyes and proceeded past Roy and Link toward the door, where he opened it carelessly and then continued through the doorway until he had disappeared from his colleagues’ vision behind the doorframe. Link merely blinked and then began to follow Marth, leaving Roy grimacing by his lonesome within the room. “I swear,” he murmured under his breath as he jammed his hands into his pockets and began to pursue his colleagues, “Marth will regret the day he decided to walk out during one of my insults.”

Roy glanced up, narrowing his eyes slightly as he witnessed Marth halted ahead of Link in the hallway. Link then stopped himself, placing a thoughtful index finger upon his bottom lip, and stood apprehensively beside Marth. Roy casually approached the duo and removed his hands from his pockets, placing one upon his chin as he pondered aloud, “Bet you dorks don’t know where you’re going, huh?”

Link nodded heartily while Marth sneered at their accuser. “Guess you shouldn’t walk out on me like that, Marthy,” Roy snickered, folding his arms smugly. “You’ve got more nerves than brain cells.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Link said softly. “…I don’t think so, anyway.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Marth explained, rolling his eyes, “because Roy’s an idiot.”

Roy cautiously brushed his uninjured hand across his black eye. “You’ve got more of a sense of direction than I thought,” he whispered, suddenly pointing his hand at his fellow swordsman. “Jigglypuff’s room is right there,” he added, raising his eyebrows as he directed his extended index finger toward the nearest door.

“Well, that was easy,” Link stated, frowning slightly.

“Almost too easy!” Roy cried in frustration as he swiftly bolted to the doorway and fiercely kicked it in, causing the door to swing open quickly and then immediately rebound and collide with Roy’s extended kneecap. “Ouch!” he cried, hoisting his knee and bouncing loosely on the opposite leg while clasping his right hand upon his injured joint. “Stupid door,” he frowned as he allowed his leg to descend to the floorboards and carelessly placed his hand upon the doorknob, shakily opening it before peering inside. As his coworkers emotionlessly followed, Roy took careless steps inside the hazily-lit room, his eyes darting from corner to corner. “Jigglypuff, if you’re in here, then let me be the first to say ‘What the hell do you want, you whiny little cotton candy?’ ” Roy scowled, folding his arms as he halted in the middle of the room.

Link smiled as Jigglypuff spun around in her swiveling desk chair to face the intruders. Her body instantly swelled as he huffed in response to witnessing the pouting Roy. “Jigglypuff,” Roy muttered straight-faced.

“Jiggly,” she responded blankly.

“Link!” the elf chimed in.

Marth elbowed Link in the side and then took a cautious step toward their Pokémon client. “Apparently you’ve sunk low enough to hire Roy for something,” he began, melancholy, “so, please tell.”

“Jiggly,” she declared.

Roy tapped a finger to his chin as he pondered aloud, “Luigi’s stolen your wallet, you say?”

Jigglypuff’s tiny flaps-for-arms extended slightly as she protested, “Jig! Jigglypuff!”

“Yes!” Roy pronounced triumphantly, forcing his fist into the air. “Luigi has definitely stolen your wallet! Come on, jerkwads, we’ve got to get to Luigi’s room and beat the living hell outta’ him!”

“What do you have against Luigi, anyway, Roy?” Marth questioned, frustrated. “He’s never even done anything to you, so why are you so hell-bent on either stealing his money or seriously injuring him?”

Roy blinked. “I’ve got my reasons,” he muttered.

“Jigglypuff!” their Pokémon client cried cheerfully.

“That’s sick!” Link laughed.

Roy’s facial expression cringed into one of pure anger as he furiously pointed at Jigglypuff and spewed, “Look, you lame, pink excuse for a monster, we’re here to do a frickin’ job – if you want to make fun of me, at least do it when I’m not standing right here. How rude you Freak-mons can be…”

“Jiggly!” she continued to protest.

Link caressed his chin with his fingers and inquired, “Why don’t we go get Ness to translate for her?”

“No way, man,” Roy retorted, crossing his arms. “That little fathead still owes me money.”

“Couldn’t translating Jigglypuff’s words be a way for him to pay you back?” Marth questioned, cocking an eyebrow as Roy turned his head and accusingly glared at him.

“No way, man…” Roy repeated, his black eye twitching as he strained to glower at his accuser. “Geez, can’t you listen to me make stupid decisions for the first time?”

Marth glanced away. “I’d rather not, but whatever floats your boat…”

Roy, ignoring the rantings of his fellow swordsman, redirected his attention toward Jigglypuff and smirked. “Well, Jiggly-poof,” he began, unfolding his arms to examine his fingernails, “you wanted something, and Link seems to suck at figuring things out; so, what I’m going to do is have him do something stupid so that I could possibly get an idea.”

Marth scowled. “Roy, that never works-”

“Link, get me a rubber band and some broccoli,” Roy demanded, extending his hand palm facing up toward his colleague.

As Link scoured through his traditional video game hero storage… thing, his facial expression continuously faded into one of apprehension. “Roy, I think we’re out of broccoli,” he innocently reported, glancing up with a nervous smile.

“I told you to stock up for such an occasion as this,” Roy mumbled as he backhanded Link’s arm. “You’re worthless… I mean, you know, more worthless than normal.”

“Jig!” Jigglypuff interjected. “Jiggly! Jigglypuff!”

Roy grimaced as he turned to face his irate client. “Alright, I heard you the first time…” He hesitated and shook his head in disappointment. “And… ye gods, fix that speech impediment of yours, will ya’?”

Jigglypuff fell silent. A growing smile began to appear across Link’s lips as he conjured up an idea: “Jigglypuff, don’t you like to sing?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows.

“Jiggly!” she chimed heartily, bouncing in her desk chair. She swiveled the chair slightly, reached into the uppermost open desk drawer, and then lifted a microphone from it. “Jigglypuff,” she announced as she swiveled the chair to its previous position and faced her guests. Jigglypuff raised the microphone toward her mouth, closed her eyes peacefully, and, neglecting to notice the bewildered stares from the trio of swordsmen, began to sing: “Jigglypuff, Jigglypuff… Jigg-ly-puff…”

Roy’s eyelids began to droop and he wobbled slightly on loose kneecaps. “I’m so tired,” he whispered slowly, positioning a limp hand upon one side of his face, “but I haven’t even had any vodka today…”

Both Link’s and Marth’s eyes descended to a close, sheepishly, slowly, as they began to lean toward Roy and balance against his body as their client’s melodious euphony overpowered their collective subconscious. When Roy eventually collapsed backwards onto the floorboards into an exhausted slumber, his arms strewn upon the ground above his head in a haphazard manner, Link tumbled to the floor crossways over Roy’s torso, followed by Marth, whom landed across Roy’s slightly parted legs in an accidentally-induced sleep.

“Jigglypuff…” The Pokémon concluded her song and opened her eyes, only to witness the three unconscious swordsmen strewn upon the floor in a heap. Instantaneously she became infuriated, puffing her body to increase its size as she angrily scoured the open desk drawer for a marker. Once she grasped hold of one, she bounced down from the desk chair and bounded toward the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated. Jigglypuff irately began to scribble across each of the swordsmen’s faces with the marker, outlining sheepishly closed eyes and carelessly drawing moustaches. “Jiggly,” she huffed, her task completed, and proceeded toward the open doorway.

---

Roy was the first of the swordsmen to awaken hours later. He gawkily opened sluggish eyes, and then became puzzled as to why he was staring at the ceiling. He slowly brought his arms toward his sides, and then gasped when he felt his right hand collide with an object. Roy gulped and slowly lifted his head, glaring down at the unconscious form of Link lying haphazardly across his chest, and another form – his least favorite colleague – strewn stomach-down upon his legs. “Oh, oh God,” he whispered, pressing his hands across his face. When he removed them, he gawked at the black residue left upon his fingers. “Oh God,” he muttered, “not again…”

He swiftly fidgeted his right leg to nudge Marth off, and then sat up halfway to shove Link onto the ground before carelessly rising to his feet and examining his sporadically blackened hands. Marth rolled slightly upon the floorboards and then opened his eyes with apathy. At the sight of Roy standing with his hands extended and gawking at them, Marth muttered under his breath as he supported himself upon one elbow, legs strewn on the floorboards heedlessly, and glared up in confusion. “Roy, what are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing his eye with his available hand. When he departed his hand from his lazy expression, he blinked silently at the sight of black upon his fingers. “Roy, don’t tell me you did that to me again…”

“I didn’t, I swear,” Roy huffed, clenching his hands into fists. He blinked, looked away, and softly added, “Or, if I did, it was an accident.”

Link twitched before opening his eyes and then rubbing his head reluctantly. “What happened?” he asked sluggishly. Marth took a step towards Link and offered his hand, which Link then grasped a hold of and struggled to his feet. “Thanks,” he began, but when he turned his head to look at his considerate colleague, a shocked “Whoa!” erupted from his mouth. When Marth stared back in confusion, Link pointed and giggled, “You’ve got marker all over your face!”

Marth glanced at his hand and then back to Link. “You’ve got marker all over your face, too, Link,” he replied, tilting his head to the side slightly as his eyes scanned over Link’s now bewildered expression.

Each of the confused two then turned their attention toward Roy, whom took a cautious step backward across the floor. “You’re not getting any ideas, are you?” he cried in shock, bringing a loosely closed hand to his mouth.

“No,” Marth muttered, pointing sluggishly at Roy, “you’ve also got marker on your face…”

Roy cocked an eyebrow and sputtered, “Well, what the hell happened?”

“I think we all fell asleep,” Link answered with confidence.

“No, you dingus,” Roy sneered, “before that.”

Link bit his lip and glanced at Marth. The blue-haired swordsman merely tapped a finger to his chin and pondered aloud, “The last thing I remember was that Jigglypuff was singing, and then I remember feeling really drowsy.”

“My God,” Roy began, narrowing his eyes, “she’s done it again.”

“You know what happened?” Marth questioned, shocked.

Roy nodded and sneered, “That stupid pink cotton ball always gets pissed at me when I fall asleep during her stupid songs.”

“Well, maybe they’re just boring,” Link declared.

“Or, maybe it’s part of her weird Pokémon powers,” Marth interjected, a sudden smile appearing upon his face. “Isn’t that one of her moves?”

Roy’s face cringed in disgust. “It bothers me to think about what you do in your spare time, Marthy.”

Marth blinked. “What?” he asked curiously. “I didn’t imply-”

“Oh, you’re sick,” Roy scowled.

Marth heaved a sigh. “Anyway…” he began, rolling his eyes toward Link, “why don’t we try to go find Jigglypuff?”

“Why?” Link asked.

“So we can find out what she needs help with…?” Marth continued, gesturing awkwardly. “We’ll just have to make sure that you don’t inspire her sing again.”

Link fell silent, and Roy crossed his arms in frustration. “You’re a moron,” he muttered, shooting an accusing glare in Marth’s direction. “Why should we care about what she needs, anyway?”

“You know,” Marth began, narrowing his Sharpie-outlined eyes, “contrary to what you might think, a lot of people have to work in order to get their decent day’s pay.” Roy scowled, and Marth continued, “Now, I understand that this is neither decent nor paying, but you’d better get your head out of your ass before you get yourself into serious trouble if you really want to be paid for anything and make something out of your miserable life.”

Roy hesitated as Marth stared smugly. “Marth,” he began, blinking once to compliment his vacant expression, “I only got about one in four words out of that. Speak more clearly; I can’t understand you when you mumble.” He began to study his fingernails, ignoring Marth’s escalating grimace. “And, just for that, I’m going to take it out of your paycheck.”

Link, sensing the developing tension, forced a smile and took a step so he was standing between his aggravated colleagues. “Umm, why don’t we just wait for Jigglypuff to return?” he nervously asked, clasping his hands together and pleadingly smiling at the scowling Roy. “Maybe she won’t be that long.”

“Dude,” Roy sighed, “we don’t even know how long we’ve been laying here frickin’ unconscious.”

“Probably not that long,” Link replied, smirking heartily, “so, maybe Jigglypuff-”

“Like I really give a flying sheep about Jigglypuff,” Roy spat.

Link frowned and lowered his intertwined hands. “You don’t think you can figure it out, do you, Roy?” he questioned solemnly.

Roy returned Link’s stare expressionlessly. “I should kill you where you stand,” he stated, his eyelids drooping in anger. “How can you have doubts in me? I’m awesome!”

Marth clutched his hands over his mouth and strained rigorously to keep it shut.

Roy placed his hands upon his hips and cried, “I’ll wait for the little punk!” He menacingly raised a hand, palm facing up, and twitched his fingers as he added, “When she comes back, then I’m going to teach her a lesson! One that she won’t forget! This ain’t a high school math course!”

Link giddily clapped his hands together once and then spun around to face his other colleague, whispering, “I think I’ve got the problem solved, Marth.”

Marth forced a weak smile and then cocked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Link merely stared in expectance, though Marth shook his head. After an awkward moment of silence, Roy sighed with, “Well, I’m tired of waiting. Screw this.”

Link glanced at Roy over his shoulder before spinning around to face him. “You can’t wait at least a little while longer for Jigglypuff?” he inquired pleadingly.

“I don’t know, Link,” Roy began, sighing once more as he glanced down at his watch, “it’s already been thirteen seconds. What more do you want from me?”

At that moment, Link peered around Roy to witness a pink puffball strolling casually into the room. “Convenient,” he thought aloud. Roy glanced over his shoulder, witnessed Jigglypuff, and then grimaced.

She glared up at him, and then stared with enormous azure eyes. “Jiggly?” she questioned.

“No, I haven’t taken the heart medication today,” Roy retorted, clenching his hands into fists as he stepped toward his Pokémon client. “Listen, you poofball of fugly-ness,” he continued, lowering his head, “your God-forsaken singing, according to Captain Pansy over here, is what put us all to sleep.” He extended a fist and released its tension, allowing himself to point furiously at Jigglypuff as he persisted, “And then you drew on all of us with marker, you son of a pig! Do you know what that means?”

“Jig,” she responded.

“That’s right,” Roy snickered. “I’m going to draw pentagons on you with marker and turn you into a soccer ball.”

Marth strolled ahead of his colleague and gently nudged him with an open palm. When Roy scowled at him, Marth merely gave a consoling smile and whispered, “Here, I’ll handle it.”

After Roy’s exasperated expression had faded into one of accusation, he spat, “Yeah, it’s so like you to handle situations that involve giant pink balls.”

Marth hesitated. “You’re grotesque.”

“And you’re as straight as a circle.”

Marth narrowed his eyes, but then redirected his attention toward the expectant Jigglypuff. “Well,” he began, “if you can even understand me, let me be the first to apologize for the idiot box that is Roy.” Before Roy had an opportunity to retaliate, Link clasped onto his colleague’s suit jacket sleeves and strained to control him. “So,” Marth continued as a hopeful smile appeared upon his face, “I think that if we can make a mutual agreement on what it is that we can do for you, then you might be able to at least pay us the thirteen dollars and twenty-six cents Roy needs to pay off that bill for putting a hole in the wall of the salon.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Roy interrupted furiously, fidgeting in Link’s grasp. “I’m not actually going to pay for that stupid thing! I did it out of necessity, ’cause you were being a stubborn loser!”

“Of course,” Marth answered carelessly before returning his attention to Jigglypuff. “Do you understand?”

She paused before tilting herself slightly, questioning, “Jig?”

Marth bit his lip. “I’ll just take that as a ‘yes.’ ”

Jigglypuff continued to stare in confusion. Marth smiled nervously as Jigglypuff held up the microphone she had been carrying. “Oh, oh no,” Marth sputtered, the awkward smirk still plastered upon his face, “please, Jigglypuff – please, uhh… put that away?”

Roy’s black eye twitched as he shrieked, “Oh, hell no!” He hurriedly reached into Link’s traditional video game hero storage… thing, causing the embarrassed elf to blush and raise his hands to his cheeks, and swiftly lifted Young Link’s toy microphone from it. He shoved it in Jigglypuff’s direction, knocking her microphone from her hands and onto the floor. Jigglypuff merely blinked once, and then proceeded with her song: “Jigglypuff… Jigglypuff… Jigg-ly-puff…”

Each of the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated jammed their hands over their respective ears as Jigglypuff’s song erupted as a blaring cacophony of musical ostracism. “Oh my God,” Roy yelped between shrill tones, “this is worse than Link’s version of ‘Y.M.C.A.’!”

Marth’s expression was tinged with disgust, and Link’s eyes were clenched tightly closed as his hands attempted to deter the horrific sounds spewing from Jigglypuff’s mouth. When Jigglypuff concluded her song with “Jigglypuff,” she opened her eyes, shining brightly, and tearing when witnessing her listeners still standing. “Jigglypuff!” she cried, bouncing happily. “Jiggly!”

Roy cautiously removed his hands from her ears and blinked before glancing around the room, and then focusing solely on Jigglypuff. “What…?” he sputtered, confusedly scratching his head. “I didn’t fall asleep. Link didn’t fall asleep… and I don’t really give a crap if Marth had fallen asleep.”

Marth neglected to scowl as he glanced back and forth between his standing colleagues. “Roy,” he began, wide-eyed, “I think you’ve done it. Look how happy she is.”

Roy directed his gaze toward Jigglypuff, whom bounced across the floorboards giddily and held the toy microphone tightly within her flaps-for-arms.

“My God,” Roy said, “I really did it. I… helped someone…?”

“She must’ve wanted to stop putting people to sleep with her songs,” Link stated.

Roy shot an annoyed glare at his colleague. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Just doing my job,” Link reported gladly, giving a half-salute.

Marth grinned. “I can’t believe you actually did something useful, Roy,” he announced. “I tip my hat to you.”

“I’ll tip your mom,” Roy sneered, crossing his arms angrily. He huffed. “Don’t use polite gestures on me, man…”

Jigglypuff abruptly halted her bouncing and stood still. Hastily she bounded for the desk, where she hopped onto her desk chair and then reached into the drawer, lifting a wallet afterwards. Roy’s eyes instantly grew wide as he witnessed the sudden act of his client. “Y-You’re actually going to… w-willingly pay me?” he stuttered, clutching his hands onto his cheeks in shock. “Nothing this unexpected has happened to me in years!” He hesitated. “Okay, well, since this morning…” Roy bit his lip as he turned his head to glare at Marth. “By the way, your electric toothbrush exploded…”

Jigglypuff carefully lifted several bills from her wallet and offered them to Marth, but Roy bolted toward the scene and snatched the bills from his client. He grinned zealously, clutching them in his hands, and began to flip through them feverishly. His smile began to fade, for he had finished flipping through the bills in a mere two seconds. “Jiggly-poof,” Roy began, his brow drooping, “you only gave me a ten and three ones.”

“Jiggly,” she responded before reaching into her wallet once more. Roy’s enthusiastic grin reappeared as he offered his hand once more, only to find a quarter and one penny plunked into his palm.

“What the hell?” he sputtered. “Twenty-six cents?”

Jigglypuff seemed to nod as she concluded with, “Jig, Jiggly!” She leapt off the desk chair and then proceeded out of the room through the open doorway, neglecting to look back at her guests.

Roy glowered at the thirteen dollars and twenty-six cents in his hands. “Wha…?” he muttered, still perplexed.

“Oh, good,” Marth smiled, taking a step toward his red-haired colleague, “now you can pay off that bill from the salon.”

Roy hesitated, his expression becoming increasingly irate. “Are you kidding me? This is your fault?” He bit his lip, grinning slightly as it drew small traces of blood. “My… Source of Blame…?”

Marth nodded. “Well, at least you’re not in debt anymore.”

“Marth, I am going to kill you now,” Roy stated. “Do you have any last words?”

“Yes,” Marth replied smugly. “ ‘You’ve got marker all over your face, still, Roy, and you look like a dork.’ ”

Roy tossed the money to the floorboards beneath him and clenched his hands into fists. “You’ve been asking for this for awhile, Marth, and now I’m gonna’ do it,” he proclaimed, raising his fists and positioning himself into a fighting stance. “I’m going to kick your ass from here to Hong Kong.”

“Will you bring me back some souvenir chopsticks?” Link happily asked.

Roy shifted slightly on his feet, an expression of pure determination piercing his otherwise disheveled face. Marth sighed and raised two loosely formed fists, staring at his challenger without interest. “Ready?” Roy questioned, grinning lightly to himself as he swiftly began to alternate the weight placed upon each of his feet. After a moment of silence, he announce, “Alright, go.” Roy threw a haphazard punch toward Marth’s torso, but the lithe swordsman effortlessly dodged it by stepping to the side and then sheepishly kicked Roy in the shin. “Ouch!” Roy cried, clasping his hands over his shin as he knelt down onto one knee. “Oww…” he continued to whine as he shifted to a sitting position upon the floor, his hands still enwrapped around his shin. Marth and Link stared in unison at their pathetic colleague.

“Don’t think this is over, Marth,” Roy sneered. “I’ll get you back for this, even if it takes me… uhh…”

“Two weeks?” Link said.

“Yeah!” Roy agreed, nodding. “Two weeks! You’ve got two weeks to live, Marth. I suggest you make the best of it.”

Marth cocked an eyebrow. “Well, then I think I’ll quit again-”

“You can’t!” Roy interrupted with sudden zeal. “Who’ll be the poster child?”

“I knew you were using me as a poster child!” Marth screeched.

Roy smirked up at his fellow swordsman. “You’re too much of a pansy to be anything else. No offense.”

“Why is it that whenever you say ‘no offense,’ it’s always after one of your most offensive statements?” Marth questioned.

Roy blinked. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. Actually, I think Link made that rule.”

Marth glanced at Link, who merely smiled. He then redirected his gaze toward Roy, asking, “…Can I kill Link?”

Roy shrugged. “Knock yourself out… but, I want you to make sure you wake up before five, since that’s when the football game’s on.”

Marth hesitated. “Never mind.”

Roy swiftly glanced at the bewildered Link and then back at Marth. He smiled sweetly. “…Please?”