Chapter Text
The 2023 Smash Bros tournament was in full-swing, which meant that the mansion was alive with friendly competition once again. This time, it happened to fall in the early spring, and while Master Hand didn’t particularly enjoy running into fighters with streaming eyes and noses from allergies, he was glad to see everyone back in the Smash Realm again.
Crazy Hand was as well. In fact, he had been so happy to welcome everyone back that he had “Accidentally” set fire to the Welcome Back! banner hanging in the lobby. And then “Accidentally” flooded said lobby with water whilst attempting to put the fire out.
That was how the first day had played out and things hadn’t settled down much since then. But, since the mansion spent most of the year dormant and devoid of any signs of life apart from the hands, Master Hand was willing to overlook certain accidents if they occurred. After all, it wasn’t like he’d have to put up with the Smashers’ (and sometimes Crazy Hand’s) shenanigans for very long. There was only a week to go before Smash Mansion would close again; maybe he should even try to adopt the mindset of his brother and try to embrace the chaos, even for a little while? Speaking of which, even though the mansion technically had a full house of fighters, a few of them were actually missing.
Mario, Luigi, Peach, Bowser, and some others had taken leave of the tournament last week and though Master Hand had inquired as to why, the only response he received from them was that it was confidential. Mario had quickly added in, “Until further notice”, which normally would have set the alarm bells ringing in the right hand’s mind, if it weren’t for the barely-concealed buzz of excitement and anticipation that surrounded the gathering like electrically-charged mist. They were clearly keeping something from him and he tried to remain professionally aloof about it like he did with most other things.
Though on the inside, it was killing him not to know. It had to be something big if most of the roster’s recognisable fighters were taking leave all at once.
Their absence had certainly caused a stir among the rest of the fighters and some of them vehemently seemed to think that the hands knew something about it. He’d already caught Joker attempting to listen in on one of his and Crazy Hand’s conversations inside his office, the left hand being just as confused as his brother. After the discovery of being eavesdropped upon, Master Hand had promptly sent Crazy Hand after the Phantom Thief, who immediately ran for the hills upon seeing him. That caused Joker to inadvertently dash past a whole group of fighters that were trying their hardest to hide behind an average potted plant. That potted plant was actually Piranha Plant… who was trying his hardest to look like an average potted plant. Needless to say, the hands found that they were only scratching the surface to a far bigger rumour that was making its rounds around the mansion, after bringing the group in for interrogation…
______
‘At least Piranha Plant was actually trying,’ Sheik defended the potted plant after the group had been herded into Master Hand’s office. ‘Snake just hid under his box. In plain sight. Joker almost tripped over him!’
‘Oh, so you were all involved in Joker’s plan to eavesdrop our conversation then,’ Master Hand bluntly stated. ‘How surprising.’
‘Not me!’
A youthful, but shrill voice pierced through the crowd of fighters and the owner of the voice stuck his hand in the air. ‘I wasn’t involved, Master Hand,’ Young Link said. He glanced across the room at Joker; the leader of the Phantom Thieves had his hands in his pockets and was leaning against one of Master Hand’s trophy stands. That particular one read “Best Fighting Game”. Young Link shifted his feet. ‘I didn’t realise we would actually be, uh… you know. I guess Joker—
Joker’s gaze snapped across to land on the young, Hyrulian hero.
Young Link swallowed. ‘He, uh, he inspired me!’ he finished. Then, in a quieter tone: ‘Can I please be excused?’
‘Of course. Crazy, get the door.’
‘Gladly!’ Crazy Hand departed from his brother’s side and flew over to the door. He tore it cleanly from the wall and ushered a shocked Young Link through, before slotting the door back in place, completely oblivious to the large cracks in the plaster and bricks. He took his place at Master Hand’s side once again with a quiet laugh.
The atmosphere in the office grew tense, like a rubber band held taut by two, giant hands and ready to snap. Sheik looked as if she wanted to blend into the bookcase that stood behind her and merge with the leather-bound books. On top of the bookcase was Meta Knight, who was wrapped in his cape and was holding himself perfectly still. Master Hand might have mistaken him for his trophy version if it weren’t for his glowing, yellow eyes. Piranha Plant had shrunken as far down into his pot as possible, sharp teeth clenched together in a grimace, while Solid Snake stood awkwardly beside him, trademark cardboard box under one arm and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else than inside the office. When Master Hand cast his gaze to Joker, he saw that the frizzy, black-haired teen was now standing bolt upright. Even with his mask on, the right hand could tell he wasn’t feeling quite as cocky as he had been a few moments ago.
Before anyone could speak up, Master Hand sighed and uncurled his fingers, surprised to find them aching from being clenched into a fist for so long. ‘Look,’ he began, carefully sweeping a few papers lying on his desk to the side. Five pairs of eyes were instantly on him. Although, technically it was only four pairs, as Piranha Plant didn’t possess any that anyone could see. ‘We’re not angry that you were eavesdropping. In fact, we’re actually more confused than anything.’
‘Yeah,’ Crazy Hand chimed in. ‘It’s not like there’s anything interesting happening.’ He paused, rubbing two fingers together. ‘Obviously, there’s the absence of some of the more popular fighters, but I’m sure no one really cares about them—
‘That’s the thing!’ Sheik cut in, clearly without meaning to, as the eye that wasn’t being covered by her blonde hair widened with shock. ‘I mean, that’s the thing,’ she repeated, quieter this time. ‘Ever since they left, fighters have been talking. Actually, the whole mansion’s been talking, wondering what it is that’s so important that they’re skipping out on the final week of the tournament.’
Piranha Plant snapped his teeth together in agreement and Snake and Meta Knight both gave low hums of varying pitch, but it still showed their assent.
‘That’s why we formed a small group, and we were wondering if you two knew anything about Mario and company’s absence,’ Joker said.
The Phantom Thief wasn’t one to say too many things at any given time; if anything, his persona, Arsène, did most of the talking for him whenever he was summoned. But when he did speak, Master Hand was always faintly surprised at the deep, baritone voice the teen had. Funnily enough, it had a slight resemblance to his own voice, the one he used whenever he wasn’t announcing fighters or stages. Crazy Hand had once joked that if they were to both yell at the same time, there would be no distinguishing who was who. For some reason, Master Hand wasn’t too keen on that idea, especially when his brother went on to add that, since Joker’s persona was a manifestation of himself, he would probably have a similar sounding voice to his summoner as well.
‘Honestly, we don’t know anything,’ Master Hand told them now, sweeping his gaze across the fighters, which enabled him to see the hope die in their expressions. ‘If we did, then we would have told everyone.’
‘Probably,’ Crazy Hand added, in an extremely unhelpful way, though his comment was luckily ignored by everyone.
Master Hand floated down to land in his office chair and clicked his fingers softly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have some work to be getting on with.’ He gave them a sharp, somewhat reprimanding look for a moment. ‘I should really be giving you five punishments for eavesdropping in the first place, but I’ll let it slide. However, if I find any of you doing it again, there will be consequences. Understood?’
They nodded their heads vigorously. Beside him, Crazy Hand whipped around. ‘Don’t you mean we have work to be getting on with?’ he asked.
‘No, Crazy. Just me. Though if you’d like to help in any way—
‘No, I’m good, thank you!’ was the chirrupy response.
The left hand glided over to the door and the five fighters knew they were being politely dismissed from the office. Sheik bowed respectfully, her plaited hair swinging forward over one shoulder. ‘Thank you both for your time,’ she said, humbly. ‘Sorry again.’
One by one, they all left the room through the door that Crazy Hand had deliberately torn off its hinges to intimidate them earlier. Meta Knight’s cape transformed into bat-like wings and he swooped out into the hall silently like a living shadow. Piranha Plant was the last to exit, hopping determinedly after Joker. However, just as Crazy Hand moved to shut the door behind him, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something. He peered outside and his whole form froze in a semi-arachnid pose.
‘Hey! What are you all doing out here?!’ he screeched, and dove through the doorway.
Master Hand shot out of his chair and sped outside, wondering what in all of Smashville was going on now. The sight shouldn’t have surprised him. But, it did.
Everyone was standing outside his office. Every. Single. Fighter. The whole corridor was choked for air and what felt like a million eyes were on him as he hovered over them. Crazy Hand was shaking next to him and Master Hand couldn’t tell whether he was genuinely annoyed, or if he was trying desperately not to burst into laughter at the scene. Regardless, Master Hand knew that he’d had enough of this. He raised his index and middle finger and pressed them together. Within a few seconds, the fingertips were glowing and with practiced precision, he bore down on the crowds below him. ‘I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again: We don’t know anything.’
‘But—
A voice tried to cut in, but Master Hand ploughed on. He shifted back ever so slightly and readjusted his aim. Realising what he was doing, a look of dread crossed the fighters’ expressions. ‘If I hear one more question about this today,’ the right hand continued in a dark tone, ‘I will not hesitate to fire a few rounds of the bullets I’m sure you’ve all experienced in Classic Mode.’
He was about to add an “Are we clear?”, but there was no need to. A deafening chorus of yes’s and okay’s and the occasional “Please don’t shoot!” echoed up and down the corridor and all the fighters were soon dispersing back to their rooms, matches, or whatever activities they had been doing earlier.
When it was just the two hands left, Crazy Hand floated over to him with an awe-filled gasp. ‘You’re always so freakishly convincing whenever you do that,’ he said, flitting around his brother in amazement.
Chuckling, Master Hand lowered his fingers and shook himself out. ‘Things like that come with age and experience, brother,’ he told him, beginning to fly back into his office. ‘One day, you’ll be a professional at getting the roster to do what you want at the best of times.’ Of course, Master Hand would never intend to purposefully harm his fighters, so he would never have used his finger-gun attacks on them anyway. It was just a good little tactic he’d picked up after all his years of living with such unruly and different characters, that all seemed to make it their number one priority to test his sanity on a daily basis.
‘Hold on,’ Crazy Hand said, just as he was about to float off down the corridor. ‘Since when could you get the roster to do what you wanted? I’m pretty sure it’s the other way aro—
He was cut off by Master Hand slamming the office door behind him. It probably would have been more effective if it wasn’t at death’s door already. There was the sound of wood splintering and the whole thing disintegrated into a pile of sawdust on the floor. Crazy Hand cackled. ‘As I was saying—
‘Begone, brother!’ Master Hand shouted, and with a snap of the fingers, the door was restored to its primitive state.
He listened to Crazy Hand’s manic laughter ricocheting off the corridor walls and then set about completing the paperwork scattered on his desk. By the time the right hand emerged from his office to meet with everyone for dinner, he’d forgotten what the events that had transpired earlier were about. At least, they weren’t at the forefront of his mind.
But the Smashers hadn’t, even if they were slightly more docile whilst eating that evening. And, as Master Hand was going to find out, things were only about to escalate further.
_____
It all came to a head on Thursday.
The same day that the letter arrived.
Kirby happened to be wandering past the front door, yawning sleepily in the early morning sunlight streaming through the windows, when he heard the familiar sound of letters landing in the large postbox outside. Momentarily forgetting whether or not there would be strawberry pancakes for breakfast, he rushed to open the door by inhaling some air to fly up and pull on the handle. The door swung open (the Koopalings probably unlocked it earlier when they were taking out the trash) and the fresh air made Kirby smile with a pleased hum.
Training grounds and forests were always the first things to greet any Smasher’s eye when stepping outside of the mansion. One would think that having such lush greenery would be a fire hazard waiting to happen. Clearly, Master Hand had thought so too and had placed an enchantment on the forests to null any and all fire attacks that happened to go awry on the training grounds. The mansion itself was comfortably crouched on the top of a gentle slope, allowing the rest of the lavish grounds to fall away beneath it. There was a fancy, double iron gate just visible between the trees, a gravel driveway spiralling away from it and winding through the grassy terrain, eventually ending near the Smash Mansion, where it ended as a formal parking lot for visitors or guests. Although, anyone who had visited the Smash Mansion at least once would know that all of the forward-facing modest stuff was just a ruse; the real, no-frills stuff, happened round the back of the mansion. Beyond the iron gate and forests was a long road leading down into Smashville and beyond that… the edge of the Super Smash Bros. Universe.
Although he would always love Dream Land and Planet Popstar more, Kirby loved this universe too. He never would have dreamt that competitive and casual sparring could be so fun! Plus, he’d made so many friends, and friends were one of the best things in the world!
The pink puffball let go of the handle, airily landing on the doorstep. Behind him, he could hear the distant voices of other Smashers beginning to wander the halls of the mansion, probably in search of breakfast.
‘Morning, Kirby!’ Popo and Nana chorused, as they walked past the door.
‘Poyo!’ Kirby answered, waving cheerfully to the Ice Climbers, before returning his attention to the postbox that was fixed to the outer wall.
He was just tall enough to flip open the lid and look inside. A single letter stared back at him. That seemed odd. Usually, there was a whole influx of bills, letters addressed to Smashers from home, and other junk that accompanied the post; single letters were uncommon. Curiosity sparked, Kirby picked it up and allowed the sunlight to fall on it. It was addressed to both Master Hand and Crazy Hand in red ink and it was clear from the handwriting that it wasn’t just from any old person. There seemed to have been some confusion over the stamp placement, as a small corner of a blue Second Class stamp was just visible underneath a bright red First Class stamp, that had been slapped down on top of it to cover up the mistake. Kirby thought this very strange. Closing the lid of the postbox, he walked back inside, planning on taking the letter straight to Master Hand without further delay. Back when the Smash Bros. Universe was just starting out, Kirby used to make it his prime objective to bring any and all post to the hand of creation, partially to be helpful, but mostly because he found it fun at the time, even if he didn’t particularly understand what was enclosed within them. To him, it was a friend helping a friend.
With the roster expanding over the last few years and all of the events that had turned the mansion upside down, Kirby fell out of that routine. But, looking down at the letter, he could sense there being some importance attached to it, almost as if it were a tangible being. Out of interest, he turned it over to see the design of the wax seal, only to give a cry of surprise.
The letter was from the Mushroom Kingdom!
Bouncing around with elation, Kirby hurried out of the lobby, clutching the letter tightly. It had been days since Mario and everyone left the mansion and quite frankly, Kirby was missing them a lot. It seemed like everyone else was as well. Every room the pink puffball entered had at least a couple of Smashers talking about their “Mysterious Disappearance.” They had had no communication from them since they left and now this letter had showed up out of the blue. Master Hand had to see it!
However, in his haste to deliver the letter to the office, Kirby didn’t bother slowing down as he rounded the corner of the corridor, so intent on taking the stairs as he was. The result of this was him crashing into someone, who gave a shout of alarm and stumbled backwards.
‘Hey! What’s the big idea, Kirby!’ King Dedede snapped, trying to pull himself back onto his feet from where he was lying, flailing, on the floor. ‘You coulda’ at least given me a warning you were about to come racin’ round the corner!’
When it became clear that he wasn’t going to succeed by himself, a couple of Waddle Dees appeared as if by magic and grabbed his gloved hands and hauled him upright before Kirby could think of offering his help. Admittedly, he was still dazed himself from the sudden collision. By the time the king of Dream Land was on his feet again, the Waddle Dees had beads of sweat on their foreheads and they were shooed away without so much as a thank you. Kirby gave an apologetic smile and rubbed the back of his head. ‘Poyo…’
King Dedede crossed his arms impressively over his bulky form and huffed. ‘Yeah, you should be sorry. It’s too dang early to be rushin’ around the place like that. At least Wario yells for everyone to get out of his way when he’s driving that bloomin’ motorcycle of his around the mansion.’ He scowled pointedly at the star-warrior and made to shuffle past him, when he paused. ‘Wait… just what was it that put so much pep in your step, huh?’
Kirby simply shook his head and shrugged, not wanting to delay getting the letter to Master Hand any longer. However, when he turned to look at it, he found his hand completely empty. With a panicked sound, he glanced up and down the corridor, trying to spot the tell-tale red, wax seal anywhere. His corridor companion, obviously not too pleased with the lack of an answer, leaned down and plucked Kirby off the ground, much to the puffball’s displeasure. ‘Poyo, poyo!’ he whined in frustration, waving his arms and kicking his legs.
‘He-he, you really are like a teeny toddler havin’ a tantrum, aren’t ya?’ the penguin king chortled behind him. ‘Look, if ya just tell me why you cannon-balled into me just now, then I’ll let ya go. Sound goo – Huh, what’s this?’
The sound of paper crunching under a heavy foot made Kirby freeze in his struggles. Luckily, he was dropped back onto the ground and he whirled around. Only to see King Dedede holding the letter from the Mushroom Kingdom. With an indignant cry, Kirby jumped up and tried to swipe it from his grasp, but King Dedede held it high above his head and he missed it by a mile.
‘Geez, Kirby, take a chill pill! It’s probably the electric bill or somethin’. His blue eyes scrutinized it and he turned it this way and that in his hands. Finally, he turned it over and Kirby watched in horror as his face lit up briefly, before a smug smile crossed his features. ‘Oho, I see now.’ He held the envelope up to the light to examine the wax seal. ‘This here letter’s from the Mushroom Kingdom, ain’t it?’
‘Really? Is that true?’ an eager voice broke in.
There was a beat of feathered wings and suddenly, Pit was at King Dedede’s side. ‘It’s been too long since we heard from them! People are starting to get real twitchy and are spinning a whole bunch of stories about their disappearance. For instance, I heard that –
The angel was interrupted by King Dedede knocking him on the head. ‘Look at the seal design, dimwit.’
He showed the design to Pit, who gave a quiet ‘Ooh, you’re right’. Kirby, who had been staring at them in disbelief the whole time, stamped his foot on the ground to gain their attention. Pit managed to tear his eyes away for a second to grin at him. ‘Oh, hey, Kirby! Didn’t see you there. Want to have a look at the letter too?’ His voice turned to a whisper and he cupped a hand near his mouth. ‘Apparently, it’s from the Mushroom Kingdom.’
‘Aya! Poyo!’
Pit blinked at him. ‘Huh? You already knew that? But how come –
‘I know how he knows that.’ King Dedede stepped closer to Kirby and waved the letter tauntingly over his head. ‘You checked the postbox this morning, yeah? Popo and Nana said that that’s where you were at when I asked em’ why there was a cool breeze blowing down the corridors when they came into the common room. So I went to go shut that dang door and then you come runnin’ into me!’
‘Oh, so that’s why it’s so cold right now,’ Pit chimed in. He shivered and rubbed his arms, his angelic robes not exactly the warmest of attire. ‘I just assumed that someone broke the central heating, honestly.’
‘Forget about the heating.’ A dangerous glint appeared in King Dedede’s eye. ‘I’ll bet a thousand dreams from the Fountain of Dreams that Kirby was plannin’ on taking this here letter right to Master Hand.’ He elbowed Pit in the ribs pointedly. ‘And we can’t have that, can we?’
Pit glanced away awkwardly. ‘Well-
‘Can we?’
‘N-no!’ The angel straightened upright, as if Palutena, the Goddess of Light, happened to be walking past at that moment. ‘I mean… everyone wants to know where they’ve gone; maaybee it’ll be okay if he doesn’t find out immediately?’
King Dedede clapped him on the back, hard enough to make him stumble forward in surprise. ‘That’s the spirit, angel boy! So long as no one in particular goes blabbing, then our all-powerful, right-handed chief needn’t believe that anything is amiss.’
The penguin’s eyes once again moved to fix Kirby with a meaningful glare. The Star-warrior returned an equally burning stare back at him. Pit shifted his sandled feet somewhat uneasily beside King Dedede.
Neither, though, were prepared for what came next.
While there were strict rules on not attacking each other inside the Smash Mansion, many of the fighters had found loopholes within them. Kirby was no exception to this; sometimes, when there was too much food to choose from at dinner, inhaling it all was the best option!
‘Wha – what’s happening?’ Kind Dedede said, feeling his feet slide on the ground. When he glanced down at Kirby, he was met with an attack he was all-too familiar with. He let out a girlish screech and dug in his heels, keeping a tight hold on the letter, as air whipped past him in a forensic vortex.
Next to him, Pit yelped as he was dragged forward a few inches. ‘Argh, Kirby, stop! I don’t wanna be inhaled and copied by you today! I still don’t even know how to read yet!’ he wailed, flapping his wings to try and fly away.
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ King Dedede questioned, though was distracted by Pit suddenly grabbing onto his arm and clinging onto it like a lifeline. ‘Hey, let go of me, dimwit!’
‘I’m too young to die now!’
If he were able to in that moment, Kirby would have smiled widely. Instead, he kept up his inhale attack. His gaze was trained on that letter. And, slowly but surely, King Dedede was starting to lose his grip on it. A couple of moments later, the envelope slipped from the penguin’s grasp and shot towards Kirby’s open mouth, the puffball managing to cease the air vortex to catch it in both hands. Leaving the other two to get their bearings, Kirby booked it down the corridor as fast as he could. He faintly heard two voices yelling behind him:
‘Hey, get back here, Kirby!’
‘Where’s that dang hedgehog Sonic when you need him?’
_______
When Kirby finally arrived outside Master Hand’s office, he was gasping for air. Taking two steps at a time whilst running upstairs was harder than it looked, especially when you happened to be one of the shorter fighters. Gathering his thoughts, Kirby reached up and knocked on the door. He noticed that there were a few cracks in the plaster surrounding the door frame, though didn’t think much of it.
‘Come in!’ Master Hand’s response rang out.
Pushing open the door, Kirby entered the office. The first thing that always took center-stage was the large window overlooking the proper training grounds at the back of the mansion. Even from his height, Kirby was still able to see the edge of the massive crater imploded in the grassland, which was one of the more popular battlefields among the fighters to practice sparring on uneven ground. Its huge size dwarfed many of the other training battlefields and some considered it a blot on the landscape, but Kirby knew that Master Hand would never snap his fingers and replace it with anything else. Crazy Hand had been the one to inflict that crater when he unceremoniously and unexpectedly showed up at the mansion just as the Melee Season was about to begin, dive-bombing from the sky and crashing down into the ground, almost uprooting the mansion itself from its humble foundations, the shock waves were so powerful. Sure, it was an unorthodox way to remember how exactly you met the destructive brother you didn’t know you had until that moment, but Kirby wasn’t one to judge. Currently, warm sunshine filtered into the room, dappling the floor in golden rivulets and reflecting off some of the trophies that were dotted around the space. A tall bookcase crouched in the corner on the right, the leather-bound tomes containing anything from the basics to fighting to the Shadow Bugs discovered from the Subspace Emissary. That had been a… dark time for the Smash Realm.
At the opposite end of the room rested an imposing, solid-oak desk. The surface was anything but clear, a severe juxtaposition to the rest of the office, where not a speck of dust could be seen, even in the direct sunlight. In his human form, Master Hand was leaning over it, staring down intently at one piece of paper, before his eyes flicked over to another piece of paper and then back again to the first one after a minute. His right hand tapped the desk thoughtfully. However, upon realising that Kirby was now standing in front of him, he looked up and gave him a friendly smile.
‘Ah, Kirby. What brings you here this morning?’ he asked, moving the papers to one side and stepping out from behind the desk. ‘You’re usually one of the first fighters downstairs for breakfast.’
‘Poyo,’ Kirby agreed. He brandished the letter, waving it around in the air. ‘Poyo, poyo!’
‘Oh! This is of more interest right now, huh?’ At Kirby’s nod, Master Hand took the envelope from the Star-Warrior and examined it closely. ‘Thank you. Was this the only thing delivered?’
‘Poyo!’
The hand of creation hummed softly and turned the envelope over to look at the wax seal. ‘That’s bizzare. Usually, all the letters with wax seals are sent in a bundle all at onc-‘ He paused and Kirby didn’t miss the look of astonishment cross over his expressions. ‘This is from the Mushroom Kingdom! I thought I recognised the handwriting, though I couldn’t be sure.’
Kirby hopped up onto the desk to see better, silently taking advantage of the distraction of the letter to do so, though when he saw Master Hand going to open it, he grew confused. ‘Poyo?’
Master Hand shook his head dismissively. ‘No, Crazy Hand doesn’t care about me opening letters addressed to him, which is probably for the best anyway. Unless it’s addressed to the both of us inside, then that’s the only time he wants to know.’ He chuckled. ‘Besides, I doubt he’s even awake right now. For a being who doesn’t need to sleep all the time, he’s one of the last ones to wake up most days.’
Kirby nodded, though had another question on the tip of his tongue. ‘Poyo? Poyo, poyo?’ he asked.
‘What?’ Master Hand turned to face him. ‘Of course you can stay. After all, you were the one who brought this to my attention. Who knows what could have happened if someone else found this instead.’
Kirby only grinned and watched as he unfolded the letter, blue gaze scanning the first few opening lines. From this angle, the flecks of yellow scattered partially across his old friend’s eyes were visible, and Kirby winced slightly.
Galeem had done that.
‘”Dear Master and Crazy Hand,”’ Master Hand began, then stopped and walked over to the door. ‘One second, Kirby,’ was all he said, before clearing his throat. He opened the door a crack and yelled, ‘CRAZY HAND!’ in his near-deafening announcer voice. A few of the trophy stands wobbled and Kirby thought he heard a couple of fighters screech in varying degrees of mild shock downstairs. Master Hand closed the door again as if nothing had happened and came back to the desk and picked up the letter.
For a minute, everything was silent, save for the distant and occasional chatter of fighters walking around the mansion. A shadow briefly hid the sun as Kazooie flew past the window. The red-crested Breegul was no doubt getting in a few laps around the mansion before rejoining Banjo for breakfast. But then, the sound of something whizzing its way through the mansion dominated all other noises and it was getting closer and closer every second. Kirby let out a yelp as the desk shook violently as something drilled its way through the floor of the office. Debris was flung everywhere as Crazy Hand emerged through a hand-sized gap in the wooden paneling and shook himself off.
‘Geez, did you really have to yell that loudly?’ the left hand questioned. ‘Some of us have only just woken up, you know.’
Kirby stared at him, flabbergasted, while Master Hand didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Instead, he motioned for Crazy Hand to come over by waving the letter. ‘This is from the Mushroom Kingdom and it’s addressed to the both of us.’
Crazy Hand immediately perked up at that and flew forward a few paces, only to drop from the air and land next to Master Hand in his own human form. ‘Really?! What does it say? Did Mario send it?’
‘I’m not sure, but maybe if you quiet down and listen, then maybe we’ll all find out,’ Master Hand responded, nudging his sibling in the side in lighthearted banter.
With a roll of violet eyes, Crazy Hand lifted himself up to sit on the edge of the desk, where he realised that there was a third presence in the office. ‘Kirby! What’s up, buddy?’ he asked, leaning forwards a bit to see him better. ‘Whatchya doing in here?’
Before he could respond, a flicker of worry seemed to cross Crazy Hand’s face for a second and Kirby saw him glance over his head to look at Master Hand, who regarded him silently for a moment and then shook his head. Crazy Hand breathed out a sigh of relief and reclined back on the desk slightly. The odd interaction puzzled Kirby, though he was too interested with the contents of the letter to really think about it that much.
‘Kirby brought me the post,’ Master Hand explained, ‘Which consisted of just this solitary letter.’
‘Poyo! Poyo, poyo,’ Kirby chimed in, pointing an accusing, stubby hand towards the letter to emphasise his opinion.
Next to him, Crazy Hand nodded. ‘Yeah, it does feel pretty sus if you ask me. But what isn’t around here?’ There was a sudden grinding sound and all three glanced up just in time to see more of the surrounding floor crumble down through the hole the destructive left hand had made. Crazy Hand cringed and laughed nervously. ‘Ehehehe, perfect timing, am I right? Uh, how about you just get on with reading it, Master? If we waste any more time, breakfast’ll be over and done with.’
‘Gladly,’ Master Hand said. His gaze lingered on the ruined office floor, but then he unfolded the letter in full and began reading aloud:
‘”Dear Master and Crazy Hand. Firstly, we would like to offer our most sincere apologies for leaving the yearly tournament early, without giving everyone much notice.’”
‘That was annoying to say the least,’ Crazy Hand muttered. Kirby poked his arm firmly to make him quiet down, wanting to hear the next part of the letter.
‘”However, we have some news that we think everyone will be ecstatic to hear. And hopefully see. We are very pleased to announce that our long-standing project is finally at an end, which is – ‘”
Here, Master Hand paused, staring down at the letter in what appeared to be disbelief. His eyes darted along the paper at lightning-fast speed as he reread the last few lines of that paragraph. ‘They have to be joking,’ he whispered. ‘There’s no way… surely someone would have spilled the beans at some point. They would have had to!’
Puzzled, Kirby tried to peer over his shoulder to have a better look, but he might as well have been trying to translate a foreign language. The handwriting was so small and squiggly, it was impossible for him to make out what had been written down.
‘Well, what is it?’ Crazy Hand inquired. ‘C’mon, tell us already!’
When Master Hand still didn’t respond, he sighed and jumped down from the desk and walked around to stand at his brother’s shoulder. Each second seemed to last an eternity, until eventually, Crazy Hand stepped back, purple eyes wide with shock and pure astonishment.
‘Seriously? What do they mean that they’ve just finished making a movie?!’