Chapter Text
From: Mario Mario
To: Master & Crazy Hand
Subject: Marth
Dear Master & Crazy Hand. I have a complain about Marth and his attitude lately. Many others do too, but I was just one of the first to drop the letter by. Outside of battle, Marth can be condescending, and while in battle, he can be fierce and unforgiving. He beat me last week and made me look like a fool in front of everybody, even my best friends and beloved brother. I hope you can do something about it as soon as possible.
- Please and Thank You, Mario Mario
From: Samus Aran
To: Master Hand & Crazy Hand
Subject: Cat. A cat.
Hey Master, Crazy. The kid next door's cat won't shut up even if it's late. I usually go to bed late for reasons, but the cat will never stop mewing by then. The kid's been spoken to about it, and yet the furball still won't be quiet, and I'm this close to throwing the kid and the cat out of the window. You mind doing something about it before I do something I'll regret in the near future?
- Thanks, Samus Aran
From: King Dedede
To: Master, Crazy
Subject: Cloud
I never thought I'd be complaining about Cloud Strife! He's disturbing my royal sleep by being a negative, broody man! Always mumbling about Sephiroth or whatever, and it's annoying! He's getting more and more on the floor's nerves, and we want something done with him! He never stops, and Ridley's thinking about taking things into his own hands. Help a king out, would ya?
- Thank ya, King Dedede
...
......
"So many letters..." A large stack of letters sat in front of Master Hand, Crazy Hand, and Master Core. "All of these are just complaints about the swordfighters... So what's the big deal with everyone and them?" Master Hand crossed his pinky and thumb in an arm-crossed motion. A knocking sound came from the door, but it was a rather aggressive. "Yeah, come in-" Master Core was cut short by the door slamming open, and a frustrated Marth and Shulk entering the room. "Perfect timing! We were just about to speak to you two." Master Hand pointed at Marth, and briefly pointing his index finger to Shulk. The latter shrugged, confusion quickly overtaking his frustration.
"What is it? It's not every day you need to speak to us," Marth spoke quietly. He seemed to hesitate a bit, his frustrations moving past him. "Well, we've received letters about you and your swordie friends. A bit crazy, ain't it fellas?!" Crazy Hand flicked a few letters at the two, the duo guarding themselves from paper cuts. Shulk grabbed a letter from the floor and opened it, seeing the letter was written by Bowser. Inside, it upset Shulk. It was a letter complaining about him. Shulk always thought he himself was a nice guy, so he was wondering why the evil king thought about him that way. He opened up another one. Yet another complaint. Another complaint, another complaint, another complaint with some harsh language. He turned to Marth. Many crumpled papers surrounded his friend's feet, and the prince was visibly angry. "How dare they think of me that way! I'm nice and kind, aren't I, Shulk?!" The Altean prince seemed to be losing it, and he shook Shulk vigorously, the latter not being able to speak.
Marth cared a tad bit too much about his reputation around the place, being a veteran and all. "...Y-yeah, I think... so..." Shulk held his head and sat down, a headache coming on. "Yeah, all of these are letters about you and some other swordfighters. Any more voices from the fighters and you guys might face serious repercussions. All of you fighters who mainly use a blade, that is. The two stared at the three. "I... I don't care. I don't expect there will be any more complaints from any other fighters, sir," Marth egotistically voiced.
"Well, get on outta here! Scram! Shoo!" Crazy Hand blasted an energy bullet at the two, as to which Master Hand shielded them. The duo left, as angry as they came in.
As the door shut, the three looked(?) at each other. "We gotta clean up these letters... And then we need to- oof-!" Master Core was then hit by a pile of letters. He blasted them away, then dumped them all in a shredder, effectively breaking the machine.
"Do we need to replace that?"
"No, Crazy. No."
In another room, a group of people, including Master, Crazy, and Core, gathered around a roundtable. There sat the mayor of a town, Vill, and his secretary Isabelle. Also at the table sat Mario, Luigi, Samus, Bowser, Ganondorf, Peach, and Daisy. "What are we discussing today?" Mario asked as he crossed his arms. "Well, about the swordfighters. Most of them have done nothing wrong, but there are a lot of angry fighters that complain about their in-battle experiences with them. Some even outside of battle," the large right glove answered.
A small cough came from Bowser. "Marth. Speaking of him, where is he?"
The group looked around, not a trace of the blue-haired prince. He was usually at the roundtable. "I haven't seen him since he went into your office, hands... and Core," the Gerudo responded.
"...I see. I guess we will continue without our friend, it seems," Peach announced as she held a few letters in her hand. Most people wondered why even write letters, but there was no answer for that. "I think we can all agree that all the grievances comin' in are getting annoying, yeah?" Daisy asked, the princess of Sarasaland looking around at her fellow members of the Smash Representatives. "I've seen the hand's office before. I can only assume all of the letters are about the swordfighters," Ganondorf spoke up. He was never really qualified as a swordfighter, so no one really gave him any lip about the matter.
Samus looked up at the Gerudo. "Then why not just kick 'em all out or something?"
...
"What? Repeat that again, will ya...?" Luigi could barely keep himself together at the thought of being apart of the group that kicks out his friends. "Most of the fighters are fed up with them. Even if some did nothing wrong, having NONE of them would ease over the angry swarm," the bounty hunter explained. "I agree with Samus. Every day, there's a complaint about one of them. It's getting even more annoying for us rather than them. I don't know how much longer I can keep sorting letters without feeling the need to burn the place to the ground," Bowser inhaled and exhaled to keep himself calm.
"I for one, think we should wait until the time is right. Marth has another match tomorrow. Depending on how he handles it out there, that should determine our judgement," Mario opposed to the idea but also somewhat agreed. "Are you saying we should let Marth carry the judgement of most of our fighters? Mario, are you crazy?!" Isabelle set down some papers as she objected to her friend's statement. "We already know Marth's going to dash dance all over the field after one KO, so we might as well remove them now-"
"No, Vill. Marth is one of the most skilled swordfighters we know, and his match his the closest. After his match, we'll analyze the rest of the matches and come to an agreement based on what we see firsthand. So, tomorrow, we'll go watch his match, then the rest of the swordfighters. Are we all okay with this? Objections, anyone?" Mario looked around the room. The hands, quiet. The core, quiet. His brother and the princesses didn't make a single movement to object. Bowser nor Ganondorf even looked at Mario. It was quiet. "So, I guess that means we're sticking to plumber boy's game plan," Samus abruptly broke the silence.
"I guess so. Now, now, then... I assume that concludes the meeting for today," Master Hand spoke as he began to float away, followed by his deranged younger brother and their deadly youngest. The roundtable was silent, but was then filled with the sounds of people leaving.
Judgement Day was tomorrow. The matches to decide the fates of the swordfighters.