Hero No Electrician

As Samus Aran, feared bounty hunter, third seat in Nintendo, walked down the halls, she felt a smug sense of pride. Nintendo had gathered its greatest stars together to compete in a fighting tournament, and she was one of the twelve that had been chosen. She was the only woman that had been chosen as well, and so far she'd pounded any opposition whatsoever.

There was just one little problem. She was third seat, only ranked as third best in Nintendo's eyes. And that set Samus raging.

Why would the most powerful bounty hunter, undefeated in her exploits and contracts, be considered only third? Sure, Samus understood why Mario was considered first; he was one of the original Nintendo characters and had been stopping Bowser before Samus took up bounty hunting. Plus, he was the only one who had beaten her so far in the tournament. And Mario could pack a really mean punch for a plumber with a beer gut.

But the one who held the second seat… that guy Samus did not understand. In fact, it was safe to say that Samus loathed the green skirt wearing swordsman called Link.

She'd met him once, and that had been the only time she'd gotten any words out of him. Those words had been little more than, "I'm Link. Nice to meet you." After that, Link tended to respond with little more than gestures and single word answers. That was fine; Samus hadn't been out looking for a nice conversationalist. She had been looking to understand why some blue eyed kid, whose face had far too much kindness, naivety, and innocence at the time, outranked her.

What was so great about that stupid hero, anyway? She'd heard he had saved his homeland, Hyrule, several times from a magical tyrant. But that was the only good thing that Samus had heard about him. To start with, he was not the most impressive looking person. Period. Link wore a skirt, and a green skirt at that. In her mind, having a belt tied around it didn't stop it from being a skirt. And then he wore thick heavy boots that came up his calves. The practically of wading through mud was existent, but combined with his skirt he looked like a gay fashion model.

And he wore fingerless gloves. Samus thought those were the dumbest idea for hand wear, and so Link had another negative check. Not to mention that stupid, ridiculous, absurd hat. What was that? A stretched out sock that he'd thrown on his head one day? It wasn't even thick enough to keep his head dry or warm! Nothing the backwards hero did made up for his lack of wardrobe, including his big blue eyes… Samus shook her head, gritting her teeth angrily.

Okay, Link did have big blue eyes. But it was his only redeeming feature. He fought with a sword and shield. That might be high and mighty tech where he comes from, but here, at a tournament that was supposed to be the best of Nintendo, using a sword practically screamed backwards. Samus could end him before he even finished breaking into a sprint at her. What chance did he have up against some of the other smashers who preferred ranged attacks? Even Mario's fireball was more intimidating than some little arrow.

It was for these reasons Samus knew that she should be second seat, and not some wimpy teenage sword slinger. And when they finally that their match together, Samus was to pull a Mortal Kombat (which she had respected for its tough attitude) and finish off Link. That should prove to Nintendo that she should be second seat. Perhaps even Miyamoto and Iwata themselves would be there to promote her.

Samus headed towards the training room for some much needed practice. Without that dead meat Ridley to vent on, she needed something to keep herself sharp. And she wanted to absolutely crush Link when that time finally came around. She reached the room and her helmet picked up the noise of something slicing through the air. Samus frowned and looked up at the sign above the door. It didn't say anything about it being occupied, but she could clearly hear otherwise.

Gritting her teeth, Samus opened the door and was met with utter blackness. Her helmet adjusted, switching to night vision to allow her a view. Standing there in the middle of the room, sword out and in hand, was Link. Of course it just had to be the person she despised most. But at the moment, perplexity replaced anger. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Link blinked at her, or at a spot off to the side of her head. "Practicing," he answered.

"I know that!" she defended. "Why didn't you turn the occupied sign on?" His only response was a shrug. Samus rolled her eyes; the idiot probably forgot, trying not to noticed by anyone else. Boy had that backfired on him. "Well why are you practicing in the dark, then?"

He pointed upwards with his free hand towards the ceiling, where a single—but usually pretty bright—light bulb illuminated the training room. "It's out of fuel," he explained. Samus felt the urge to slap him. He had to be joking; there was no way the second seat of all Nintendo didn't know about electricity.

"You mean burnt out," Samus growled. "Then just change it."

"Oh," Link replied, scratching the back of his head. "Right."

Samus felt her temper start to rise. She had to urge to slap herself. "Are you telling me," she began, "that you don't know how to change a light bulb?" Looking rather sheepish in her night vision, Link nodded.

Rather than kill him there and spare him the misery of living, Samus stomped into the practice room, door automatically shutting behind her. It engulfed them in darkness, but she still had night vision. If Link even though about trying anything, she would tear out his spine and make a hiking stick out of it. That was, if he had a spine. He seemed pretty intimidated by her, which was how it was supposed to be.

However, Samus was not going to live down the fact that this elf outranked her but couldn't replace a light bulb. Forget that he came from a medieval styled kingdom; the Super Smash Brothers Tournament had been going for three months now. Furious with everything now, Samus stopped underneath the offending light bulb and looked up. Link didn't say a word as Samus attempted to reach for it. Granted, it was a little high, but that meant nothing. He could have fetched a ladder. Samus refused to stoop to that level.

Movement caught her eye, and she saw Link pull a hookshot out of his skirt. Where did he keep that? It didn't look like it had been there a moment ago. Trying to be helpful, Link aimed up and struck the ceiling, providing a way for Samus to climb up. But he must not have realized that he was the source of her irritation right now. How naïve could he be?

Samus grabbed his hookshot and yanked down, intending to pull it out of the ceiling. Instead, it brought a small part of the ceiling down with it. Anger only rising—that Master Hand would probably take it out of her pay, and he probably wouldn't even fix it afterward—she shot her grapple beam up. It attached as well, and Samus flew up to the ceiling. The bounty hunter unscrewed the light bulb rather harshly and tossed it down, letting it break on the ground. The training room was the only part of the mansion that was cleaned anyway.

Then, reaching over to grab a convenient light bulb, Samus stuck the new one in and dropped to the ground. She felt a smug satisfaction when Link backed away as her armor slammed into the ground. "There," she stated. If he couldn't remember that, she would kill him. Samus reached over and flipped the switch on. Light illuminated the training room, and Samus felt her temper simmer away. Maybe it wasn't his fault they wrongly named him second seat. Perhaps Link was just trying to escape with his life.

Startled, Link reached for the light switch and flipped it off and back on. His face dawned with a comprehension, and Samus felt her temper stop dropping and start rising. "You didn't know about light switches?" she asked calmly, clenching fists.

Link ducked out the door, running fast.

Fury raged inside of Samus and she whipped towards the ranged targets, picturing Link's head and charging a blast. But she stopped when she realized 'Link's head' was missing. The ranged target was a charred stump, with half an arrow shaft near the base. Samus's head swiveled to examine the rest of the practice room. Other ranged targets were also blasted away or frozen in giant chunks of ice. The melee bags were torn apart with sharp precise cuts. Link hadn't just been practicing in the dark; he had known exactly what he was doing.

Samus stormed out of the practice room, keeping her cannon charged. She was going to kill him.