Chapter Text
Previously…
“Did you really win against Master Hand?” asked Ness, the boy from Onett. “He’s a tough opponent!”
Luigi, the Eternal Understudy, nodded. “Once you put your mind to something, you’re likely to do it,” he said, smiling.
“Some of us used to take you at face value,” sighed Fox, remembering the tier list tacked up on the board and how he and a certain racer took potshots at the man in green for being ranked last, “but we never will again. Cross our hearts.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Luigi told him, punctuating the sentence with a smoldering look.
Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location, Master Hand, the Hand of Creation, was discussing his duel with Luigi with a suave-looking gentleman in a suit.
“The time has come to stop underestimating him,” he was saying. “I believe that after all these years, a little—reparation—is in order.”
“And what exactly do you have in mind?” asked the man.
“How about—a free mansion?” suggested Master Hand.
“Free mansion, you say?”
“But there’s a catch. He’ll have to go on an adventure first,” continued MH.
“Ah, I see. You want me to put Luigi in his very own game. But—what should be the objective?”
“Luigi loves Mario more than anyone else,” said MH. “Let’s have him venture through this mansion to rescue his big brother. And not just any mansion—make it a haunted one.”
“So—what exactly do you need from me?” asked the man.
MH leaned forward. “I’m talking about a business proposition. I help you make this Luigi game happen, and you help me work all of the kinks out of the second tournament I plan to hold in two years, which includes fixing the problems which currently hinder Luigi. That’s the deal, and it’s not subject to negotiation. Understood?”
The man shook MH’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Two years later…
The year was 2001. Bush was President. The nation was struggling to recover from a devastating terrorist attack on its own soil. Windows XP was the new OS du jour, and Wikipedia made its debut. American Online and Time Warner merged to form AOL Time Warner. Pearl Harbor made audiences cry in theaters, while Shrek and Monsters, Inc. made theatergoers laugh. “Lizzie McGuire”, “Crossing Jordan”, “The Ellen Show”, “Samurai Jack” and “The Fairly OddParents” were TV’s newest shows. The GameCube succeeded the N64. And two years after the inaugural tournament, Nintendo’s best characters were once again squaring off in—Super Smash Bros Melee!
Along with the returning Forever Twelve, there were thirteen new faces, all of which were welcomed with open arms. From two Princesses to two new swordsmen to two nefarious villains, this roster promised to be spicier than the first!
In the men’s locker room, one of the returnees stood before a mirror, applying a thick layer of shaving cream to his cheeks, chin and neck. The strong smell of the stuff permeated the air as he glided a Gillette razor down one cheek, across the chin, up the other cheek and then down the slope of his neck, leaving his moustache be. He trailed a gloved finger over the freshly shaved skin and found it nice and smooth, just the way he liked it. On came a few pats of aftershave, and then he cleaned his shaving materials.
He pulled on his freshly cleaned clothes. First a pair of briefs. Then, an emerald green shirt. A pair of navy overalls with brown buttons. Peppermint-striped socks. And finally a pair of shined brown work boots. And a sports watch, just because.
A comb and brush tamed his brown hair and styled it in the usual way. Atop the hair now rested a green cap with its signature L, arranged at a smart angle. To complete the primping, he took a bottle of cologne and directed two quick sprays to the back of his neck.
Luigi strolled over to the full-length mirror and studied himself. He rolled his shoulders back, lifted his chin and straightened his posture. He studied his blue eyes, observing his reflection with just the right amount of intensity. The movements of his chest and abdomen as he breathed. Tensing on the inhale and relaxing on the exhale. He tried all sorts of expressions on his expressive face. Smiles, neutral expressions, solemn expressions and finally fierce looks of concentration, determination and confidence. Once he was finished, he nodded proudly to himself.
Inside and out, he felt good. Only a month ago, he’d saved Mario from the King of all Boos and soldiered through his fear of ghosts. His standing in this tournament had considerably improved, given his advantageous wavedash brought on by his bad traction. He’d finally started to gain the respect he deserved—his bravery won him the favor of a certain blue-haired prince. Plus, old friends had been invited to show their skills, one of them being a peachy Princess who wanted to demonstrate her ability to rescue herself.
Very carefully, Luigi peered back at his reflection. His jaw tightened, the rest of his face tightened and a deep red color began to replace his suntan. Gloved fists clenched, and his breath came fast. Twin thunderclouds emerged in his blue, dilating eyes, and his nostrils flared slightly. And two words flashed across his mind.
That turtle.
King Koopa, the bane of his and Mario’s existence for the past sixteen years, had also come along for the tournaments. He thought he was everything, with his loud, obnoxious mouth and his condescending attitude, teaming with Ganon to make everyone else miserable. He was so big and strong and mighty, and everyone had to answer to him, or else. Well, it seemed that everyone wanted to take a number and get in line to trounce him in battle. He was among the most unlikable characters in Melee. And for Luigi, the feeling was multiplied by twenty.
Want to know Koopa’s nicknames for Luigi? Green ’Stache. Or Greenie. Or Green Bean. Take your pick. But never his real name. Koopa never took him as seriously as Mario. He always found ways to treat him like a joke.
Like in a recent match between them on the Battlefield stage. Luigi took the match seriously and pounded his massive opponent with everything he had, but Koopa creamed him, to put it lightly. Adding insult to injury, Koopa mercilessly taunted the vanquished plumber after he was awarded the victor’s spoils. Luigi had wanted to beat him senseless, but instead he walked away, eventually winding up in the new and improved Training Area, where the newly created Sandbags awaited to help the fighters train. With the door closed and locked, Luigi unleashed his frustration on the first Sandbag he saw.
Koopa’s words to him that day was something you’d never forget, even after several weeks. And that was why Luigi was here, slowly bringing himself back from his anger, preparing to go on another action-packed adventure—Adventure Mode!
As soon as Master Hand announced the new mode, Luigi signed up and spent the last few days conditioning body and mind. Now, today was the day, and he was ready. Ready to tackle Adventure Mode head-on and ready to make Koopa eat his words. Successfully, he calmed himself down and beamed one last time at his reflection.
“Luigi!” called Master Hand’s voice. “It’s time!”
The beaming smile was replaced with a stony, battle-ready expression.
“Sono pronto.”