Post by ArwingAce21 on Nov 16, 2007 14:20:47 GMT -8
Coming up right on the heels of the finale of Defeat at Fortuna, is my first (and of now, only) humor fic, and I strongly believe you'll enjoy it. If you've ever read Dave Barry's work, this will seem quite similar. You'll see some of the characters used in Defeat at Fortuna, and some new ones. The most enigmatic new character also turns out to be the main character here. Her name is Krystal... uhh, no one knows what her last name is. Anyway, I don't have a pic handy, but she is a female blue fox that Fox meets during the events of StarFox: Adventures. You'll pick up on it. This fic is much more friendly to the uninitiated, so it should be easier to understand. A'ight, I'll shut up. Here is the first section of WDtAtSoaM!!!
One more note: This story is broken into 3 main sections, but I'm going to break it even further for usage here. If any endings seem abrupt, they aren't meant to be endings. Okay, here goes. Seriously:
Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?
A Fan Fiction by ArwingAce21
Disclaimer: I do not own Nintendo, StarFox, or any related characters, locations, etc. I’m not responsible for any pain, anguish, or other suffering caused by reading this fiction and the many senseless attempts at humor therein.
---
The grayish-white and ocean blue Arwing of Ace pilot Fox McCloud streaked through the cloudless sky like a divine messenger of death for anyone unfortunate enough to challenge it. The signature ship of StarFox was in peak condition, freshly polished and pulling high-G maneuvers that would shear the wings off an ordinary fighter like they were nothing. The other three Arwings of StarFox, seeming to appear from thin air, formed StarFox’s unique diamond formation. When one thought of the joys of aviation, this was the image that came to mind. This image, however, suddenly faded away as Fox hit the power button on the remote to the television the StarFox team had been watching.
“Man, I’d give my left wing to be able to fly like that again!”
“All of us would, Falco,” said Fox, placing his hand on his teammate’s shoulder. “But we can’t. Just face it.”
“Yeah,” added Slippy. “We just don’t have the money. We’re using our last bit right now to keep the Great Fox airworthy. We don’t even have enough to gas up the Arwings!”
It was true. The times in Lylat had been peaceful, which meant Corneria’s elite mercenary squadron had been out
of a job for quite a while. The team had been sitting on a large couch in the living room of temporary quarters in a “Not-So-Super 8” hotel just outside Corneria City while the Great Fox was undergoing repairs nearby.
Fox, the team leader, was desperate for money-making ideas. He had even stayed up the night before watching an “at-home business plan” infomercial hosted by a wolf with roughly three gallons of hair gel on his head alone; there’s not telling how much he had on the rest of his fur. Fox went as far as actually calling the 800 number at the bottom of the screen, but hung up when he realized he had to pay shipping and handling charges. As such, he was open to any ideas.
The team spent several minutes in silent contemplation, brainstorming ideas, with the exception of Slippy, who was silently contemplating the advent of a new wart on his arm.
“I’ve got it!” Falco suddenly exclaimed, jumping off the road kill-brown sofa he was seated on, carefully chosen by the highly paid interior designers at the “Not-So-Super 8” hotel to completely clash with the sea-sick green wallpaper. “Let’s get paper routes!”
Fox stared at the avian, amazed at his sheer stupidity.
Krystal applauded and jumped up and down. Not at Falco’s idea, which she thought was idiotic, but because she finally realized that she was actually going to be in this story and maybe, just maybe, play a vital role in the plot.
Slippy contemplated his wart, oblivious to the world.
The TV continued sitting there.
“What? You don’t like the idea?” Falco asked.
“Actually, no. We don’t like it,” replied Krystal. “The greatest squadron of all time, doing the job of kids in Grammar School? I don’t think so.”
“Come up with a better one, then.”
“I will.”
“Go ahead.”
“Watch me.”
“Anytime now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m waiting.”
“OMIGOSH!!”
“Today plea- Huh?”
Slippy, unaware of the ongoing conversation, had shouted out in shock when his wart divided into two separate warts as he watched it. Unsurprisingly, no one paid any attention.
---
Slippy: Ewwww! Ace, what is with the warts! Giving frogs/toads warts is a cruel stereotype!
Ace: But it fits. Besides, most frogs aren't able to complain.
Slippy: You aren't going to make my wart dividing an extremely immature running gag, are you?
Ace: That's the general idea.
Slippy: Oh NOOOEEEZZZZZ!!!!
Ace: Don't worry, you're the butt of more than just that joke.
Slippy: That doesn't help any!!!!!!!
---
Okay, the ending was abrupt as I said, but it flows when you read it all at once. Please read and review, feedback is appreciated!!! If you're impatient, search the title of this fic at FanFiction.Net. It's there.
One more note: This story is broken into 3 main sections, but I'm going to break it even further for usage here. If any endings seem abrupt, they aren't meant to be endings. Okay, here goes. Seriously:
Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?
A Fan Fiction by ArwingAce21
Disclaimer: I do not own Nintendo, StarFox, or any related characters, locations, etc. I’m not responsible for any pain, anguish, or other suffering caused by reading this fiction and the many senseless attempts at humor therein.
---
The grayish-white and ocean blue Arwing of Ace pilot Fox McCloud streaked through the cloudless sky like a divine messenger of death for anyone unfortunate enough to challenge it. The signature ship of StarFox was in peak condition, freshly polished and pulling high-G maneuvers that would shear the wings off an ordinary fighter like they were nothing. The other three Arwings of StarFox, seeming to appear from thin air, formed StarFox’s unique diamond formation. When one thought of the joys of aviation, this was the image that came to mind. This image, however, suddenly faded away as Fox hit the power button on the remote to the television the StarFox team had been watching.
“Man, I’d give my left wing to be able to fly like that again!”
“All of us would, Falco,” said Fox, placing his hand on his teammate’s shoulder. “But we can’t. Just face it.”
“Yeah,” added Slippy. “We just don’t have the money. We’re using our last bit right now to keep the Great Fox airworthy. We don’t even have enough to gas up the Arwings!”
It was true. The times in Lylat had been peaceful, which meant Corneria’s elite mercenary squadron had been out
of a job for quite a while. The team had been sitting on a large couch in the living room of temporary quarters in a “Not-So-Super 8” hotel just outside Corneria City while the Great Fox was undergoing repairs nearby.
Fox, the team leader, was desperate for money-making ideas. He had even stayed up the night before watching an “at-home business plan” infomercial hosted by a wolf with roughly three gallons of hair gel on his head alone; there’s not telling how much he had on the rest of his fur. Fox went as far as actually calling the 800 number at the bottom of the screen, but hung up when he realized he had to pay shipping and handling charges. As such, he was open to any ideas.
The team spent several minutes in silent contemplation, brainstorming ideas, with the exception of Slippy, who was silently contemplating the advent of a new wart on his arm.
“I’ve got it!” Falco suddenly exclaimed, jumping off the road kill-brown sofa he was seated on, carefully chosen by the highly paid interior designers at the “Not-So-Super 8” hotel to completely clash with the sea-sick green wallpaper. “Let’s get paper routes!”
Fox stared at the avian, amazed at his sheer stupidity.
Krystal applauded and jumped up and down. Not at Falco’s idea, which she thought was idiotic, but because she finally realized that she was actually going to be in this story and maybe, just maybe, play a vital role in the plot.
Slippy contemplated his wart, oblivious to the world.
The TV continued sitting there.
“What? You don’t like the idea?” Falco asked.
“Actually, no. We don’t like it,” replied Krystal. “The greatest squadron of all time, doing the job of kids in Grammar School? I don’t think so.”
“Come up with a better one, then.”
“I will.”
“Go ahead.”
“Watch me.”
“Anytime now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m waiting.”
“OMIGOSH!!”
“Today plea- Huh?”
Slippy, unaware of the ongoing conversation, had shouted out in shock when his wart divided into two separate warts as he watched it. Unsurprisingly, no one paid any attention.
---
Slippy: Ewwww! Ace, what is with the warts! Giving frogs/toads warts is a cruel stereotype!
Ace: But it fits. Besides, most frogs aren't able to complain.
Slippy: You aren't going to make my wart dividing an extremely immature running gag, are you?
Ace: That's the general idea.
Slippy: Oh NOOOEEEZZZZZ!!!!
Ace: Don't worry, you're the butt of more than just that joke.
Slippy: That doesn't help any!!!!!!!
---
Okay, the ending was abrupt as I said, but it flows when you read it all at once. Please read and review, feedback is appreciated!!! If you're impatient, search the title of this fic at FanFiction.Net. It's there.
