Summary: Fox and Falco put the fries in the bag to pay for Smash 6; Diddy gets hungry when the Smash Castle runs out of bananas.
Original publish date: October 16, 2024
--
One day in the Smash Castle, Roy walked into the dining room, wearing a MAGA hat. Falco was there.
"Hey Falco."
Falco was sipping coffee.
"Hey Falco."
Falco sipped more.
"...Do you hear me? I said-"
Falco held up his hand, er, feather. "Hold on."
Falco finished the rest of his coffee. "Ah." He turned to Roy. "What?"
"Can you shoot me bruh?"
Falco raised his eye. "What?"
"Shoot me."
"...Are you okay?" said Falco. "Is something going on?"
"Yeah bruh. I'm tryna get like Trump, that's what's goin' on."
Falco raised his other eye. "...The reality show idiot? What about him?"
"Y'ain't know?" said Roy. "Someone tried to shoot him in the face. Again."
"...Again?" said Falco, not looking up from his coffee.
"Yeah, but he tanked that bih. For America!"
"Oh really, said Falco, narrowing his eyes.
"Yeah bruh. He was bleedin' on the stand and allat, but he got up and hit that AMERICA salute in 4K HD," said Roy, holding up a printed picture of Trump posing in front of the flag. "Look."
Falco looketh. "Hmm. Yeah that pic's hard." Falco turned to his empty cup. "But what does that have to do with me?"
Roy tilted his cap back. "Bruh, I'm tryna get that Trump aura! And you're the only dude I could find with a gun."
Falco turned back to Roy. "No one else?"
"Nah bruh. Everyone else sleepin'."
"Ya sure?" Falco looked at the kitchen clock. 6:30 AM. "Oh, riiight," he chuckled. "I'm an early bird." He got up and reached into his pocket, pulling out his epic Blaster.
"Before I shoot you, I want to-well, really I'm legally obligated to ask-Are you sure you want me to shoote you?"
"Hell yeah bruh! Let's go!"
Falco put his hand feather up to his chin. "Good enough for me. Go stand in the... uh..." Falco grumbled. "...The big wall arch thing between this room and the living room. I-I keep forgetting what it's called."
Roy ran over to the wall.
"Where do you want it again?"
"Holup." Roy held up his hand; Falco put down his gun. Roy pulled off his shirt, making a ridiculous show of it, trying to emphasize his, not super present muscles. "Gotta flex harder on the haters."
"Lovely," said Falco, trying to cover up his cringe with his hands. "I'll repeat. Where do you want it?"
"Uh..."
Falco didn't wait. He shot a Blaster into Roy's upper left stomach. It ripped through his skin and blood began to pool out. Roy winced and recoiled.
"Bro. I'm goooood." Roy bit his lip as his chest convulsed.
Roy collapsed.
"Get up soon, 'kay? I don't wanna go back to jail," laughed Falco.
Roy in fact did not get up soon.
"...Roy? Aw man..." Falco shook his head and left.
--
Falco walked outside the Castle. He looked at the curb. Fox was there, in a Vlone hoodie and Rolex, standing next to a stole-uh I mean, borrowed-military grade Airwing that was rusted and scraped all over.
"Yo, Falco!" waved Fox.
Falco squinted at the airwing and raised his eye.
"Do we really need allat for McDonalds?" asked Falco, putting his blaster in the holster and walking to the curb.
"What are you talkin about?"
"It's like, a mile away. We could just, I dunno, Uber, or walk like, y'know, normal people."
"That's so boring though," groaned Fox, exaggeratedly pulling down his eyelids. "We're not just normal people," he added, with air quotes. Fox patted the Airwing. "We're Fox and Falco, and this is how we do things."
Falco sighed. "Well, us being 'Fox and Falco' doesn't hold much weight in 2024. That's... kind of why we're applying for jobs at McDonalds now."
Fox chuckled. "Sure it doesn't. But when we pull up lookin' like this, everyone gonna be all like "Damn". and Imma be like "Yeah". We still gotta leave a impression."
"Make a impression-" Falco put his hand on his forehead. "Fox. It's not like we're pullin' up to a warzone. We're just... flippin' burgers."
"Blah blah blah," said Fox. Just trust me, it's gonna be lit."
Falco winced. "Sure boss."
"See, ya get it now." Fox patted the passenger seat. "Hop up in."
Falco shook his head. "Fine," he muttered, climbing into the Airwing. "But next time, we're taking an Uber."
Fox hopped into the cockpit. "Deal. But after today? You're gonna thank me."
Falco leaned back in his seat as the engines roared to life. "Yeah, Fox. Sure."
--
It had started raining in the time it took them to get on the road. Fox leaned back in the pilot's seat, one hand on the controls, the other scrolling his phone.
"Bro, look at this," Fox muttered, eyes glued to his Instagram feed. "945K followers. I had a million last year. What happened?"
Falco, slouched in the co-pilot seat, glanced at him. "Fox, those followers are from back when we were, you know, actually relevant. People see you post and prolly go, 'Oh yeah, I forgot I was still following this guy,' and then they unfollow. It's not that deep."
Fox's ears twitched. "Nah, that's craaazy. I just need to be more consistent. Hit 'em with more content, you know?"
Falco sighed. "Or maybe," Falco continued, "just stop postin' so much. That way the numbers won't drop as fast. I barely post, and I'm still holding at 900K."
Fox snorted, speeding up even though visibility was low. "Yeah, 'cause you're playing it too safe. I'm out here trying to make moves, bro."
Falco snickered. "Moves? You're flipping burgers, Fox. You know most people have moved on, right?"
But Fox, predictably, didn't really register that. "I got a plan, man. I'm gonna buy some bots, boost the follower count a bit. Secure a brand deal or two. Just need to get back up to a milli, and then boom. We'll be back in business."
Falco stared at him, beak agape. "Bots? Seriously?"
"Yeah, why not. Everyone does it. A quick bump in the numbers and brands'll be all over me. Easy money," Fox said, tapping away on his phone.
Falco shook his head, resisting the urge to argue. "Right," Falco muttered. "Because what brands really want is to partner with a washed-up ex-social media star flipping burgers at McDonald's."
Fox didn't miss a beat, still immersed in his phone. "Exactly."
--
The Airwing descended toward the McDonald's parking lot, the rain hammering down harder now, bouncing off the ship's sleek surface. Falco noticed Fox gripping the controls a little too loosely for comfort, eyes still darting to his phone between glances at the windshield.
"Yo, eyes on the road, Fox," Falco warned, sitting up straighter. "We're comin' in fast."
"Relax, bro, I've got this," Fox said, turning very sharply.
The Airwing hydroplaned instantly, skidding across the asphalt as Fox struggled to regain control. His grip tightened on the controls, but it was too late.
"Oh crap oh crap oh crap-" said Fox.
The ship crashed into the McDonalds fence, metal bending and screeching as they collided. Both Fox and Falco jerked in their seats as the impact hit, and then the airbags deployed, smothering both of them.
"Ah! What the hell?!" Fox shouted, tryna push away the airbad.
Falco's feathers were ruffled, his body pinned awkwardly against the seat as he struggled to wriggle free. "I told you—damn it, Fox! What the hell was that?!" he grumbled, his voice partially muffled too.
Fox was still panicking, fighting against the restraints. "We're trapped, man! We're stuck! I can't—"
"Calm down!" Falco snapped, managing to free one arm. "We just hit the fence. It's fine, let's just get out—"
But Fox wasn't listening. He reached for his Blaster. "Where's my-" he found it. "Uh, ha, got it.
"Got what?"
"My-My blaster."
"...Why? Are you-"
"Yep, I'm gonna shoot out the window."
Falco's eyes widened. "Wha-Hey dumbass! There's people outside-"
POW POW POW POW POW.
...
POW POW POW POW POW.
...
"...Oh riiight," grumbled Fox. "I forgot to charge it." He pressed the charge button, and the firing hole started to burn bright pink.
"Fox? Don't tell me-"
Fox did. Fox shot out the window. Glass flew across the parking lot real good. Fox reached his arm through the window, slightly scraping the cut glass with his underarm and drawing blood, and with a few grunts, undid the car lock. He shoved the door open, and then stepped out, one toe at a time. When he landed, he looked at the wreckage and whistled, barely noticing Falco sprawling out.
Falco's feet were unsteady, and he held a hand over the right side of his head, which was bleeding heavily. Fox looked down at his Rolex. "At least this thing's okay." He looked up and finally noticed Falco. "Yo Falco, you good?"
"..I think I'm-"
Before he could finish, Fox shoved a phone in his hand. "Bro, take this. Record this. This is a clip right here."
"..Fox? Are you-I'm bleedin-"
"Yeah, uh... we'll get to that later. Uh..." Fox turned around and saw some random gruff middle aged man standing in front of Mickey Ds.
"Ooh, I think that's our guy."
"The... one that's supposed to be hiring?" said Falco. He grimaced. "Ugh, this thing's raw."
"Yep. Gimme a sec." Fox turned and ran towards him.
--
"Ookie ookie! (I'm hungry)." said Diddy Kong. He monkey hopped downstairs in the Castle to the communal refrigerator. He opened it. He moved his hand to a plate with a frozen banana. Instead he found a note.
"Ookie Ookie Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! (If u r readings this Diddy, then you sleepwalk again and ates ur very good banana. srry -p. diddy)". Diddy fumed and threw the note away.
"Ahh! Ahh! (Diddy should kill himself!)" whined Diddy, hoppin up and down like the angry chimp he was. Then he slowed down and put a hand to his chin. "Ook... (Wait...)"
He looked out the window. "Ookie ookie... ooh ooh! (Diddy need banana...)
Diddy looked behind him and saw Mewtwo, who had entered the kitchen and was now looking at the body of.. uh, one of the red haired swordguys, Diddy couldn't tell them apart. Diddy perked up. "AHH! AHH! AHH! AHH! (Mew! Two! Mew! Two!)" he yelled, hopping up and down.
Mewtwo, who had been trying to scan Roy's mind to see if he was alive (he wasn't), jerked up. "Oh no," he muttered.
Diddy ran up to him and began making more of his silly monkey noises that Mewtwo unfortunately had the ability to understand, and Diddy knew he could understand.
"Make it quick, please," said Mewtwo, setting his mind to auto-translate monkeness in his head (or however telepathy works idk)
"Diddy need banana."
"Go to the fridge."
"But Diddy already ate all his frozen banana and now he hungry."
"Sucks for you. But what do you expect me to do about your lack of self-control? Wait, don't answer-"
Diddy hopped up and down harder. "Diddy want u to get me banana."
Mewtwo groaned and tipped his head back. That's what he got for asking an obvious question.
Meanwhile, Diddy stepped forward without looking where he was going and his foot landed in the blood puddle that surrounded Roy. He lifted up his foot, looked at the blood, and shrieked. "Why is anime swordboy bleeding?" he asked.
"I won't get you your banana. I'm not your "maid", or your "servant" or your-uh, wait, wha?" said Mewtwo, finally registering Diddy's question about Roy.
Diddy, hearing the banana comment, switched to responding to that. "But Diddy need banana! And I saw u first-"
"Roy's... in a very deep sleep," said Mewtwo, picking the phone out Roy's hand. Apparently Roy had been in the process of reposting a clip to TikTok. "And he's sleeping because he's dumb-"
Both of them stopped mid-sentence, staring at each other.
"...Diddy confused."
"Y-Yeah. Me too," Mewtwo sighed. "Let's... one at a time. The banana thing first. No."
Diddy's head drooped. "But.. no more banana?"
"Yeah, no more banana. Look, McDonalds is like two blocks away. Go there if you're hungry."
Diddy perked up. "Does McDonalds have banana?"
"..." Mewtwo looked backwards, contemplating his next words. After three seconds he turned around. "Yes," he lied. "They call it... uh, McBanana."
Diddy hopped up and down. "Yayyy! McBanana!"
"Yes, yay," muttered Mewtwo. "Now leave me alone kid."
"But aren't you gonna drive me?" asked Diddy.
"Why would I do that?"
"Imma kid, I can't drive."
Mewtwo mentally slapped himself. No doy.
"...Get Lucario to do it or something. He can understand uh... monkenese or whatever you creatures speak too."
Diddy's face scrunched up. "But Lucario's weird and gay and probably has fleas."
Damn it, he knows. Mewtwo rubbed his head, tryna brainstorm a way out. "Give me a second..." he grumbled, floating to the coffee machine. He pressed the coffee button and nothing came out. "What the-" Mewtwo gritted his teeth. "Oh-of course we're out..."
He turned to Diddy. "Alright, fine, I'll take you. But only 'cause I need some damn coffee."
Diddy cheered and started hoppin again, but Mewtwo held up his hand.
"Stop that before I change my mind."
--
Falco stood behind the McDonald's counter, a bandage wrapped awkwardly around the upper right side of his head, eye included. Unfortunately still having to work here even tho he was hurt. He moaned and rubbed the crappy bandage wrapping.
"Hey! Beak-boy!"
Falco snapped out of his daze and jerked his head back. He looked in the direction of the noise and pointed at himself.
"Yeah, you. Beak-boy!"
Falco sighed. "I have a name, Einstein," he said, pointing to his nametag. "I'd like to be called it."
"And I'd like to have a burger instead of this satanic creation," said the speaker, a middle aged man who took out a pitiful looking Big Mac, that was drowning in sauce to the point of spilling out between the buns. "And yet y'all refuse to give me what I'd like for some reason."
Falco half-heartedly glanced at it. "Yeah, uh... what am I looking at?"
The guy ripped open the burger with enough force to splatter some sauce on the counter.
"Hey buddy," said Falco. "They'll make me clean that-"
The guy ignored him. "Look at this crap. This patty is only half the size of the frickin' bun. I got my lettuce, I got my onions, I got my sauce, and I guess they just didn't think I had enough, huh? They just lathered that on." He took out his Sprite bottle, which wasn't even filled up halfway. "I wonder where the hell my drink went. But here it is! Right in my frickin' burger instead of my cup." The slammed his bun back on his burger, not breaking eye contact. "McDonalds servin' salad sandwiches now, huh?"
Falco grimaced. "That's not good, but why are you bitching to me about this? I only take orders. I don't make the food man."
The guy's eyes narrowed. "I don't care who made this crap. I wanna talk to the manager now. Ask him why I'm getting a salad sandwich."
"Well..." Falco looked at the guy, who... wasn't in peak physical condition, to put it lightly. "Maybe it's for the best."
The guy leaned into Falco's face? "Hmm?" he said, poring into Falco's soul.
"I mean, of course, right away, sir," muttered Falco, stepping away from the man. Once he was out of earshot, he muttered to himself "Great, a Karen. Just what I need," hitting up his walkie talkie.
--
Meanwhile, outside the McDonalds, Mewtwo pulled up at the spot where he was supposed to take the order. He turned down the volume on the car radio (which was just playing soft nature noises) and turned to Diddy Kong, who was on his iPad on Youtube Kids, watching some... uh, it'd probably be best if he didn't investigate.
Mewtwo turned to Diddy and telepathically said, "Hey buddy, you wanna place your order, or shall I do it for you?"
Diddy didn't respond. My boy was too locked in, man.
"Mmmm, yeah that's for the best," said Mewtwo. He turned to the speaker.
--
Inside the McDonald's, Fox was standing at the fry station, his hands awkwardly fumbling with the bags as he attempted to multitask. The sizzling sound of frying potatoes filled the air, but Fox's focus was elsewhere, determined to impress the female coworker next to him, a no-nonsense girl named Lisa who was busy stacking the freshly cooked fries.
"Hey, I don't know if ya knew," Fox said, leaning in closer, "but I'm uh, what some might call, a Instagram celebrity."
"Oh really," said his coworker, not looking in his direction.
"Yep. 1M followers," said Fox, slightly fudging the truth. "I'm uh, kinda a big deal," continued, accidentally dropping a fry or two on the floor. "Whoops."
"Don't worry about that," said his coworker. "Boss says don't waste any of it." She turned to the new car, and saw... uh, Mewtwo.
"Oh! Uh... Can I take your order?" she said
"Yeah, why do you think I'm here?" said Mewtwo.
"Okay, what'll it be?"
"Umm, a... McCoffee? Is that what you call it?"
"Just coffee please."
Mewtwo scratched his head. "Uh, yeah, that then. Coffee. Uh, iced."
"Uh huh," the girl said.
"And uh, could I get some hash browns to go with that?"
"It's late sir. We don't do breakfast at this time."
Mewtwo threw his hand up. "At this time - it's 10 in the morning!"
"Yeah..."
"W-Who eats lunch at 10 in the morning?!"
"..."
"...Do, do you have the McRib at least?" pleaded Mewtwo
"Not this month, no."
Mewtwo leaned back in his seat and groaned. "...That's gonna be it then. Thanks ma'am."
The girl peeked out the window and saw Diddy. She raised her eyebrow. "Umm, do you want something for... your, your pet? Is that what that thing is?"
"Uh... no, he's grounded."
--
They drove to the part of the drive-through where you're supposed to get your food. Mewtwo looked in the window and saw... "Fox?"
"One and only," said Fox, walking to the window with his stained McDonalds apron, holding McFries in one hand and Mewtwo's iced coffee in the other.
Mewtwo blinked fast a few times. "Wow the military really needs to pick you up again," he murmured, low enough for Fox to not hear.
The sudden stopping of the car made Diddy look up. "Ook? (Hmm?" He looked out the window and saw... Fox? Literally "putting the fries in the bag"?
"Eek eek eek eek... (I gotta get this fast...)" Diddy put a hand over his mouth, and leaned out his window to record Fox, already thinking of a funny caption to accompany the upload.
Anyways, Fox, none the wiser, put the coffee in Mewtwo's hands. Mewtwo paid him the moneys, blah blah blah, drove off.
Back at the Smash Castle, Mewtwo got out of the car, taking a second to stretch his arms. He took his coffee, and started to float in the Castle, sippin' it like a boss... then Diddy. Diddy came out, hopping around Mewtwo and making those monkey noises.
Mewtwo sighed and began auto-translating Diddy in his mind again. "Repeat what you just said please."
"Ooh ehh ooh ehh! (Where my banana?)"
Mewtwo grimaced. "Ohh, yeah... uh... it's in the bag! Yeah, just... close your eyes and count to 10 and you'll get it as a, er, special treat! Yeah..."
Diddy made a bunch of happy shrieks I didn't care to translate. He covered his eyes. "10, 9, 8..."
Mewtwo floated away.
"...7, 6, 5..."
END