Mission 241: Quid Pro Show

From Accct Wiki

Link had begun to pace the floor by the time Roy had finally reached for a tissue from the overly sympathetic Marth. “This is friggin’ ridiculous, man,” Roy muttered as he shifted slightly in the folding chair. He tapped the tissue to a bleeding cut upon his cheek, then narrowed his eyes as he began to watch Link. “Link,” he said, frowning, “what the hell are you doing?”

The elf instantly stopped in his tracks and turned to face his questioner. “I’m sorry, Roy,” he pronounced, “but I was just trying to think of how we’re going to get the money to buy you those razorblades you wanted.”

Roy blinked. “Link,” he sighed, “you’re such an idiot.”

“Knock that off now, please,” Marth suddenly interrupted, causing each of his colleagues to direct his respective gaze towards him. “You don’t have to be such a jerk all the time, Roy.” He lifted another tissue from the box clutched in his other hand, and then smirked as he handed it to Roy. “It’s not unusual to want a lot of money, Roy,” he began, raising his eyebrows, “but, perhaps, this just isn’t the way to go about acquiring some. What do you say?”

Roy hesitated as he stared silently at his fellow swordsman. “I say… you’re an idiot, too.”

“Well, I tried,” Marth muttered.

Roy scowled. Link emitted a timid laugh before interjecting, “But, but, I didn’t say anything about your inability to make good decisions! Uhh… go me!”

Roy set the tissue limply upon the desk beside him before returning his indifferent gaze towards Link. “Yeah, go you of a frickin’ cliff, you mo-”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Marth interrupted, lifting an index finger. “How about we try to not be selfish megalomaniacs and let people talk when they want to?”

“Your plans always suck, man,” Roy huffed. “I’m not listening to you anymore.” He hesitated. “Not that I ever really did…”

“Nothing changes,” Marth obliquely agreed.

Link glanced away for a moment. “Hey, I think I’ve got an idea,” he stated quite clearly.

Roy folded his arms, snatching the tissue upon the desk with the hand nearest to it. “Link,” he began, deadpan, “I don’t want, nor care, what you have to say. I’m not as mad at you as I am at Marth, – God rest his soul once my mood swings swing back into the direction of ‘Ass-Kicking Mode’ – but, geez, is it so hard to just shut up once in awhile when you’re told to?”

“Honestly,” Link said, “yes. Yes, it is.”

Roy dabbed the tissue to his cheek wound. “Well, then you’ll have something to practice while you’re sitting in jail after I frame you.”

Marth grimaced, “Roy! How can you say something like that?” He hesitated. “And why would you so blatantly state your intention to do so, anyway?”

Roy paused, the tissue in his hand frozen in place against his cheek. “You heard nothing,” he eventually replied.

“I hear a lot of that,” Link interjected.

Marth heaved a sigh as he set the tissue box he had been holding onto the desk beside Roy’s other bloodied tissues. “Honestly, Roy,” he started, raising his eyebrows, “I don’t know why, or how, for that matter, you expect Link and me to stay with you in this crazy so-called ‘business.’ We never seem to accomplish anything.”

“Hey!” Roy spat indignantly. “I killed the Ice Climbers. That seems like a pretty big accomplishment to me, man. They were annoying little bastards.”

“I wonder if anybody’s even found out that they’re dead yet,” Link pondered aloud.

At that moment, the telephone ring pierced the awkwardness of the conversation, causing each of the members of Red, Blue, and That Other Guy Incorporated to stare at the interrupting object, if somewhat indifferently. “That might be them now,” Marth added. Link stared unthinkingly at his colleague.

Roy lazily lifted the telephone to his ear and muttered, “Yeah, what do you want?”

“Oh my, I must have the wrong number,” came a hesitant voice.

“Depends on whom you’re trying to reach, pal,” Roy sighed as he began to study his fingernails.

There was another pause from the caller. “Roy, is that you?” the voice asked. “Roy, this is Doctor Mario. I had heard you had begun a moderately successful job-hunting guild, and I’d like your assistance, if that be the case.”

“ ‘Moderately’ is cutting it close, but…” Roy began, but trailed off as he looked up from his fingernails and stared emotionlessly at the befuddled Marth. “I’ll say this once and only once, so you’d better listen, Doctor Freak: I will not work unless you promise me cash.”

“May I pay you after the successful completion of the job I request of you?”

“No.”

Doctor Mario could be heard snorting on the opposite end of the line. “…Fine,” he muttered, “I promise. However, I’ve heard that you have quite the reputation for hanging up on callers when they’re trying to explain what it is they are asking from you. I request that you refrain from doing so, for what I require your services for is rather importa-”

Roy set the telephone into its receiver and leaned back in the folding chair. “Guess Doctor Mario wants us to do something for him,” he said, bored. He then rose to his feet and began to scratch his arm through his suit jacket sleeve. “Though, he did promise me cash, so who knows? Maybe this might not turn out so bad!” he added with a sudden smirk.

“Let me guess,” Marth began, crossing his arms, “you also hung up on him before he was finished, and so now we’ll have no way of knowing what we’re supposed to even do for him.”

“You catch on quickly, don’t you, Marthy?” Roy chortled mockingly, lifting a hand to pinch Marth’s cheek. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be smart.”

Marth shoved Roy aside and slightly raised a defensive arm, turning his head away in an attempt to hide the new flushed color of his cheeks. “Don’t do that!” he cried.

Link grinned to himself as he watched Roy find enjoyment in tormenting the blue-haired swordsman. Once Roy had noticed, he turned to face his elfin colleague and sputtered, “Are you done idolizing me now? We have to go find Doctor Mario’s room.”

“Which one?” Link inquired, suddenly serious. “He’s got his dormitory room and his practitioner’s office in the medical building.”

Roy hesitated. “Ah, hell…”

“Didn’t think that one through, did you, Roy?” Marth abruptly accused.

“I don’t know why I should have,” Roy sneered in response. “I mean, if Doctor Mario is really that adamant about his little mission thingy, then he’ll call back, right?”

Marth stared. “Roy, I’ll bet you don’t even know what ‘adamant’ means.”

“I’ll have you know that I most certainly do know what it means,” Roy huffed, “but I prefer not to tell you under the circumstance that your puny, pea-brained mind would explode.”

Marth drooped his head in some fashion of a sulk. Roy placed his hands on his hips in triumph, and Link merely tapped a finger to his chin. “It’s some kind of taco sauce, isn’t it?” Link wondered aloud. Marth buried his face in his hands.

The telephone abruptly rang once more, though Roy alone turned to face the object. He swiftly lifted it from its receiver and spat, “Doctor Mario! Your dorm room or the what’s-em-doodle office?”

Doctor Mario’s voice was tentative. “W-Well, the offi-”

Roy slammed the telephone into its receiver and then flashed a thumbs-up at Link from across the room. “Got it,” he proudly announced. “That wasn’t so difficult.”

“That was a stroke of luck, Roy,” Marth sighed. “Don’t count on it in the future.”

Roy made an awkward gesture with his hand. “Feh, I don’t care,” he replied. “All that matters is that I figured out where Doctor Mario needs us to be.”

Link raised a cautious index finger. “But, Roy, wouldn’t it be better to-”

Roy proceeded towards the open doorway and seemed oblivious to Link’s insisting expression. Link blinked, and Marth merely shrugged towards his elfin colleague, nonverbally suggesting that they follow Roy. Link nodded weakly and proceeded through the doorway to pursue Roy, followed somewhat reluctantly by Marth. Marth noticed that Roy had taken up walking with his hands behind his back once again. “Roy,” he eventually began, “you look like an idiot walking like that.”

“And you look like an idiot all the time,” Roy stated without so much as even glancing at his accuser, “but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“You called me an idiot about ten minutes ago,” Marth sneered.

“Yes, but you deserved it.”

Link walked into the doorframe at the end of the hallway; Roy continued walking while Marth immediately halted to assist his colleague. “Link, are you alright?” Marth asked, grasping a hold of Link’s shoulders. Link wavered slightly on his feet, but did not respond. Marth’s eyelids descended to complement his realization: “Oh, right. You probably couldn’t get much more brain damage if you wanted to, huh?”

“Are you done playing grab-ass back there?” Roy called from over his shoulder. Marth muttered under his breath as he guided Link to continue walking at the pace of their colleague. Roy suddenly brought a hand to his chin as he thought aloud, “You know, it’d be smarter to cut across the lobby and go straight to the medical building, would it not?”

Link smiled heartily. “It would not.”

Roy hesitated as he lowered his hand. “Shut up, Link,” he muttered. Once past the lobby, the next hallway contained a tile floor and white wallpapered walls. Roy abruptly came to a halt before one door and stared vacantly at it. “If I recall correctly, this is the room,” he said, causing his colleagues to stare, as well. “So,” he began once again, raising his eyebrows, “let’s just barge in there unexpectedly like we always do.”

Roy proceeded to place a hand on the doorknob and forcefully swing the door open so that it collided with the wall and bounced slightly on the rebound. “Doctor Mario!” Roy shouted. “You apparently have a job for us, which I’ll actually attempt due to your promise of cash!”

Doctor Mario spun around in his office chair and folded his arms upon the desk. “Just on time, as usual, Roy,” he murmured, lowering his glasses.

“Bad eyesight?” Marth asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Doctor Mario replied with a regal chuckle. “These are just for show.” When the three newcomers merely stared with blank expressions, Doctor Mario sighed and hopped off his desk chair to approach the much taller swordsmen. He set his glasses into a pocket on his lab coat and added, “Well, Roy, I need your assistance on a task that is most vital to my reputation and upkeep thereof.”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Are you coming on to me?” he asked, wincing.

“What?” Doctor Mario frowned. “No! Allow me to explain, if you will-”

“I’ll allow you to explain when pigs start raining from the sky,” Roy sneered. Marth sharply elbowed the redhead in the side and gave a simple, reassuring nod.

After a slight hesitation, Doctor Mario persisted, “Yes, well… I had been offered a position as a host of a talk show. However, after accepting said position, I was informed of the special nature of the talk show in question.”

“Strippers,” Roy cut in. “It’s gotta’ be strippers. Stripper Tuesdays are my favorite.”

Doctor Mario looked away for a moment. “No…” he sighed. “Anyway, being a professional psychiatrist, pharmacist, and scientist, the nature of the talk show offered to me deals mostly with psychological disorders, family dysfunction, and weight loss.”

“How does weight loss fit in with all that?” Link inquired.

“Doesn’t matter,” Doctor Mario replied with a quick shrug. “Now, the filming date for my first episode is coming up, and this is a most pressing issue, of course. You, Roy, and your comrades, seem to be ‘hip’ and ‘happening’ – perhaps you could instruct me in the manner to most easily convey my ideas and advice to the guests in an understandable and comprehensive fashion.”

Roy blinked. “Yeah, ‘hip’ and ‘happening,’ and whatever other crap it was that you said. That’s me.”

Doctor Mario smiled with, “Well, I’m very glad you had agreed to help me with my talk show, Roy. I look forward to working with you.” He raised an index finger and added, “Filming begins tomorrow.”

“What the fu-”

“Is this a Doctor Phil rip-off show?” Marth questioned.

Doctor Mario deviously grinned. “You see through everything, don’t you, Marth? Congratulations.”

Marth heaved a sigh. “Great,” he muttered, “Doctor Mario is almost as much of an ass towards me as Roy.”

At that mention, Roy perked up with sudden interest. “You wanna’ make a contest out of it, shorty?” he shouted at Doctor Mario, clenching his fists in anticipation.

“My, my,” Doctor Mario sighed, “you all are so incredibly uptight! It was a mere joke.”

Roy stuttered, “Y-Yeah, well, you can take that joke and shove it up your…” He trailed off for a moment as he thought silently to himself, and then drooped his brow with concern. “Dude, why didn’t you give me more notice about this thing? Filming starts tomorrow, you said? What are you, high?”

“I’m under contract,” Doctor Mario replied with a confident smirk. “I’m not supposed to talk about the show before it airs. Regardless, I figured recruiting you three would assist me in making the best first impression possible.”

Roy corrected his posture and grinned, placing his hands upon his hips. “Well, seems like you’re not so bad after all, then, Doc.” He leaned over slightly and offered a hand. “Now, the cash you promised…”

Doctor Mario scowled, then reached a hand into his lab coat pocket and fished around. “Ah,” he said as he lifted a few wrinkled bills. “Here is your commission thus far,” Doctor Mario stated as he laid the bills into Roy’s open palm. “You’ll get the other half when the show is complete and successful.”

Roy eagerly raised his hand towards his face and glanced over the bills in his hands. He thumbed through them, and then muttered, “Hey, uhh… I think you screwed up. You only gave me twenty-five bucks.”

Doctor Mario chuckled. “Yes, well,” he began smugly, “it was you, Roy, who failed to specify a price for your work.”

Marth chortled slightly. “He’s right, you know, Roy,” he stated. Link bit his lip.

Roy’s eye twitched for a moment, but he soon regained himself and whispered, “Yes, Doctor Mario. Though, I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

“Excellent,” Doctor Mario replied, clasping his gloved hands together, “then, I shall see you three tomorrow. Filming is on the stage in the theater they remodeled for the show’s set.”

Roy’s eye began to twitch once again. “Yes… I and my twenty-five dollars will be there…”

---

Behind the tall blue curtains of the backstage of the set, Roy flipped through a few pages of the script in his hands and then glanced up from it with a grimace at Doctor Mario. “Dude, this sucks,” Roy muttered as he thrust the collection of papers at the much shorter character. “This ain’t cool or ‘comprehensive’ or whatever! What you need is to get with the times and talk to these morons like the morons they are!”

Doctor Mario glanced through a few pages. “Roy, I believe this is most adequate-”

“Look, you asked for my help, and my help says that you’ll do what I say,” Roy sneered. “Now, let’s practice.” He cleared his throat and began in a girlish voice, “ ‘Oh, please help me, Doctor Mario! I’ve tried everything to shed these bastard pounds, but nothing seems to be working for me or my hideous gluts!’ ”

“Diet and exercise are the most telling factors in weight loss, Miss,” Doctor Mario replied. “You might not be dieting properly, or you might not be getting enough exercise to balance out your calorie intake, and-”

“Wrong!” Roy cried, causing Link to fidget slightly at his side. “Nobody wants to hear that! Nobody wants to diet, or exercise, or anything like that!” He jabbed a finger at Doctor Mario’s shoulder and persisted, “Find them a good liposuction clinic, or recommend bulimia or anorexia. Those always worked for me.”

Marth sighed. “Anorexia works for you because you can’t afford anything to eat.”

Roy placed a finger behind his ear and displayed a look of surprise. “You hear that, Marth? That’s the sound of no one giving a crap what you have to say.” He lowered his hand, turned back to Doctor Mario, and added, “Now, let’s try another scenario. I’m a single mother with six rampant children running around that I have absolutely no control of.” He turned his voice into a rather effeminate one, and continued, “ ‘Oh, I’m just a hopeless mother with six evil children running around like rabid dogs! My husband left me, and I can’t control my own kids, two of which are dyslexic and the other four of which have A.D.D.! Please help me; I’ve tried everything from pleading with them to ignoring them!’ ”

“My advice is to get the children involved in activities,” Doctor Mario replied. “If the children are occupied with things such as coloring, writing, or playing outside on bicycles and whatnot, they will not be running rampant in the house. Or, perhaps you could-”

“No, no, no!” Roy cried, clenching his fists. “You’ve got this whole ‘advice’ thing completely wrong! Tell this woman to stop being so irresponsible with her own freakin’ kids and just kick their asses until they knock it off! Eventually, they’ll learn.”

Doctor Mario’s eyes grew wide. “Roy, I do not think that is ethical or responsible. It completely contradicts today’s parenting standar-”

“To hell with today’s parenting standards!” Roy interrupted. “My mom kicked my ass almost every day for six years because I was misbehaving, and eventually I calmed down! I mean, geez! It’s not that hard!” He placed his hands on his hips. “Just tell whatever lady it is that all she needs to do is get a good, strong leather belt and smack ’em around a bit.” He shook his head in disappointment, murmuring, “You are so screwed, man!”

Doctor Mario glanced around apprehensively. “Roy, I-I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for this filming, then. My style is much different than yours.”

“Dude, you’re wrong again!” Roy cried. “See, you don’t have a style. My style is just awesome, but you don’t have one to begin with.” Marth looked away and heaved a sigh.

A stage worker suddenly approached the four characters and announced, “Five minutes until filming begins, Doctor Mario.”

Doctor Mario breathed a nervous sigh as he watched the stage worker leave and disappear behind a wall. “Roy,” he began, turning back to face the redhead, “I would like to make another attempt at your style. Please, give a scenario, and I shall try to respond to it as you would.”

Roy lifted his eyebrows. “Well, that’s more like it,” he replied with a budding smirk. “Now, let’s see… Let’s come up with an easy one for ya’. Okay, I’ve got it. ‘Oh, I’m a big, burly, buff guy, and a total loser to boot, since I feel like my wife is emasculating me. How can we resolve this little issue?’ ”

Doctor Mario cleared his throat. “Well,” he began, “it seems to me like you are not trying very hard to take control within your household. Step up and be a man.” He hesitated. “…You loser…?”

Roy blinked. “Dude, that sucked,” he responded with a frown. “I mean, sure, it was a little better, but still not very good.”

“Oh my,” Doctor Mario uttered, raising a nervous hand to his lips. “Perhaps this was a bad idea.”

Marth had been patiently watching and waiting, and finally could not stand to hear any more. “Doctor Mario,” he cried, holding his arms out at his sides, “don’t listen to Roy, please. His method will only get you in trouble with the executives and the producer! Please, if you value this job, use your own style and speak to the people who need help in such a manner that you are actually helping them.”

Doctor Mario lowered his hand and blinked up at Marth for a moment. He then smirked heartily. “Alright,” he said, “that I can do.”

Roy scowled and folded his arms in a huff, while Doctor Mario straightened the collar of his lab coat. “We’ll be listening from behind the curtain, okay, Doctor Mario?” Marth said with a smile. “You just go out there, do your thing, and we’ll rendezvous during the first break for discussion. How’s that sound?”

“Excellent,” Doctor Mario replied, nodding. He took a swift glance at his wristwatch and then gasped, “Well, I’ll be going on stage in about a minute. Wish me luck!”

Marth smiled pleasantly, but he was immediately shoved aside before he had a chance to speak. “I’ll wish you stuff, but it sure as hell isn’t going to be luck,” Roy sneered, causing Doctor Mario to hesitate. “Err, I mean, break a leg, or whatever,” Roy muttered, rolling his eyes afterwards.

After an announcement came over the set, Doctor Mario ran a quick hand through his hair and then ambled onto the stage, smiling at the applauding audience that had filled the entire theater. “Hello, and thank you!” he said as he took a seat on the leftmost lounge chair. “Welcome to The Doctor Mario Hour, and I’d like to thank everyone for joining me today. My guests today all proclaim to have pressing issues that are as various as the people themselves, and…”

Backstage, Roy muttered, “Aww, man, he’s totally screwing up everything I had set up for him. Way to go, Marth! You killed everything.”

“I’m saving his career,” Marth retorted. “…Well, I mean, outside of his regular occupation as a member of the Super Smash Brothers.”

Roy’s eye twitched. “You serious?” he sputtered. “That’s not fair! Regardless, he is one of the few people who have actually given me money, so maybe I’ll help him at least a little bit.”

“That’s unlike you, Roy,” Link said happily.

“Yeah, but this is like me.” Roy kicked Link in the shin and then crossed his arms and turned away.

“My first guest says she is so desperate for help that she doesn’t know what to do anymore,” Doctor Mario announced to his audience. “Please welcome Samus Aran!”

Roy’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, what the…?” He noticed Samus appear at the opposite end of the curtain and walk onstage, causing an uprising of applause.

Samus continued until she came to the couch beside Doctor Mario’s lounge chair and then took a seat. “Hello, Doctor Mario,” she said solemnly.

“Welcome to the show,” Doctor Mario replied. He shifted slightly to better face his client, and then placed a hand underneath his chin. “Please, tell me about your problem. Why are you so desperate?”

“Well,” Samus drawled, “after I found a camera in the bathroom, I was pretty freaked out. I suppose that’s when my paranoia started, and ever since then, I haven’t been able to get out of my suit, leave my room, or do much of anything else. So, for the past week, I’ve been trying to kill myself.”

“Every day?” Doctor Mario asked in shock.

Samus shrugged and answered, “Sometimes twice a day. Depends on how crappy I’m feeling. The thing is, it never seems to work. I even brought my noose. Can you tell me what’s wrong with it?” She lifted a rope with a noose on the end.

Doctor Mario glanced away for a silent moment before returning his attention to Samus. “Umm, well, no,” he stuttered. “See, you cannot keep yourself cooped up in your room as you have been doing. Your paranoia is only growing as you continue to feed it by avoiding people and the outside world that caused it.”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?” Samus sneered. “Though, it took Donkey Kong about three hours to haul me down here. That monkey is tougher than he looks.”

“A valid point. You are here,” Doctor Mario stated quite clearly. “However, your refrain from running away or panicking says to me that, deep inside, you want to seek the professional help that will assist you.”

Samus nodded in agreement. “Well, yes,” she began, “and I went to Roy first. I had heard something about a stupid little company he had started, or something, and so I went to him for help.”

Doctor Mario narrowed his eyes. “You don’t say…”

“Actually, I do say,” Samus replied. “I mean, Roy didn’t help at all. In fact, he yelled at me and said I was crazy, and, well, I guess it all started going downhill from there.” She shifted unsteadily on the couch and added, “I thought I was going crazy, but just hearing it said to me was too much.”

“I see,” Doctor Mario muttered. “And, perchance, did you see if they took my psychiatrist couch?”

“Yeah, they did.”

Doctor Mario heaved a sigh in an attempt to remain calm. Backstage, Roy snickered to himself, “Oh yeah, I remember that. That was awesome.” Marth elbowed his colleague in the side, prompting an immediate retaliation by verbal assault.

“Well,” began Doctor Mario suddenly, “I think I’ll try something a bit different than the original plan – we’ll bring out all the guests, learn about their issues, and then I will talk to them all together as a collective group.” He cleared his throat, and then began once again: “My next guest says that he cannot deal with his younger self constantly hanging around, and…”

Backstage, Link clapped his hands together once. “Oh, that’s my cue,” he said, causing Roy to gawk.

“W-Where do you think you’re-” Roy began, but stopped himself as Doctor Mario’s speech ended and Link began walking onto the stage. Roy furiously snatched the edge of the curtain and peered around it, scowling as he watched Link wave at the applauding audience. “Look at that pompous jerk!” Roy growled. “He didn’t tell me anything about this! Gah, I want to shoot something!” He rummaged through the pockets on the inside of his suit jacket, muttering, “Where’s my handgun?” Marth took a step back.

“Welcome to the show, Link,” Doctor Mario said with a phony smile as Link took a seat on the couch beside Samus.

“Hi, Doctor Mario!” Link chimed. “Remember, I saw you earlier, since Roy and-”

“Link, please,” interrupted Doctor Mario, “tell me what your problem is with your younger self.”

Link hesitated as he thought for a moment. “Oh, I don’t really have a problem with him,” he answered. “I just think it’s weird how we can coexist in the same building and the same timeframe.”

Doctor Mario paused. “Wait, so you just perceive this as a weird incident? You don’t have any problems to resolve concerning your younger self?”

“Well, he does always seem to take my stuff,” Link replied with a small shrug.

Doctor Mario blinked. “Let’s bring out Young Link, please.” Young Link soon appeared on the stage from behind the curtain, and the audience again applauded. Once Young Link had taken a seat on the couch beside his older self, Doctor Mario lifted a hand and nodded, “Welcome to the show, Young Link.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Young Link replied. “I’ve got a few problems with my older self, even if he doesn’t have any problems with me outside the whole ‘timeline continuity error’ thing.”

“Hmm?” Link seemed uninterested.

“Dude, you burned down a building to make the copies of my essay!” Young Link cried, causing Link to jump slightly. The audience could be heard making strange gasping noises and outcries of protest.

Doctor Mario gasped and clasped his hands over his mouth. “Oh my God,” he began, sinking his face into his open palms, “why did I hire them…?”

Backstage, Roy bit his lip. “Holy crap, we’re getting bad free publicity!” he shouted. He then rolled back his arm sleeves and glanced quickly over his shoulder at his remaining colleague. “Come on, Marth!” he shrieked. “I’m taking over this show!”

Roy suddenly darted onto the stage, causing the audience to raise the volume of their gasps and cries. He skidded to a halt in front of Doctor Mario’s lounge chair and then lifted the shorter character and tossed him onto an open patch of cushion on the couch beside the chair. Roy then leapt onto the lounge chair, pointed an irate finger at Samus, and cried, “You’re just paranoid and crazy! You think I was lying the first time I said that? No! Go ahead and kill yourself, Samus! No one will care! Get it over with! You’re a terrible subplot! If you think life’s not worth living, get your ass to Ganondorf’s little ‘mafia’ thing and get yourself a pair of cement shoes, and then throw yourself in the river!” He redirected his finger towards Young Link, and shrieked, “You! You’re a little bastard! You’re an ungrateful, sniveling bastard! We did what you asked – it just so happened to involve the burning of a building! So, get off my case and stuff a sock down that hole in your face!” Roy moved his finger towards Link’s direction, his arm quivering as he spat, “You, Link, are too dimwitted to even understand any of my insults that I would otherwise throw at you.”

All three of the show guests, plus Doctor Mario, sat silently on the couch, staring with vacant expressions at the now heavily breathing Roy. Marth stumbled onto the stage and stood behind the lounge chair that Roy was standing on, and bowed slightly to the deathly silent audience before announcing, “I’m sorry, everyone! He forgot to take his medicine today, and-”

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t forget to take my medicine today, jerkwad!” Roy shouted. He moved the hand that had been pointing at Link to forcefully smack the back of Marth’s head. “You’re all just insane whack-jobs who lack the ability to do anything for yourselves!” he cried, returning his glare to the four characters seated upon the couch. “If I wasn’t about to faint from exhaustion, I’d haul off and kick all your asses one by one, and…” Roy trailed off as he wavered unsteadily and then fell from the lounge chair to the floor.

The building was silent. Doctor Mario blinked and then shifted his haphazardly seated position into a more comfortable one to better view Roy’s unconscious figure. Marth peered over the back of the lounge chair and frowned, while Link elbowed Samus in the side and whispered, “Roy’s been beaten up one too many times, I think.”

“Stay away from me, freak,” Samus muttered.

The silence in the building continued as every pair of eyes in the building seemed to either remain fixed upon Roy or parade around the building in confusion. Fox McCloud suddenly walked onstage, and then stopped in his tracks as everyone onstage and in the audience began to watch him. He hesitated, and eventually asked, “Umm, did I miss my cue?”