hey check out this fanfic. all credit goes to anonymous for this
Dylan's scarred, crimson hands rubbed together in frantic anticipation. The summer had been dull and wrought with boredom, but now autumn was waning and the Winter was fast approaching. He turned on his DS to check the date- this was the right date, it had to be. He navigated his way to the calendar, not bothering with the copy of Mario Kart he had in the system. The game was boring- too many scrubs who believed snaking was a "cheap exploit". Dylan scoffed. They just couldn't understand, and how could they? They weren't on his level. Dylan shook his head, clearing the rage generated by those no-good scrubs cleanly from his mind. He stared at the date looking down at him. November 2nd. It was a bitter cold morning, and he was standing by the door of an old warehouse.
He had arrived here after his frien- well, his parents entered him in a contest. They knew how much he liked that "Super Smash Brothers" game, and in recent months Dylan had fallen into a depression. When they heard of a contest where the winner got to receive the newest Smash Brothers game a day early, they entered him in the contest without saying a word. When he won, Dylan was furious at first. The game had been ruined, and this was just a bitter reminder- contest draws were for scrubs! A real contest is a vicious competition, not a name draw! Nevertheless, he obviously won because of his superior naming skills- he always told other people that his name was the best, and he believed it. He believed he was the best at most things..Smash Brothers included. Although he now hated the game series, he had learned that Masahiro Sakurai would be personally giving the game to the winner. This was a golden opportunity. He could finally tell Sakurai his true feelings, how he hated what the man had done to his beloved game...He could finally follow through on his threats and...Kill Sakurai.
He had it all planned out in his mind- he would meet Sakurai, shake his hand...And then grab him in a throw, chain-grabbing him until his damage meter was in the hundreds. There's no such thing as cheap shots. "Cheap shots" is just what scrubs call something they don't understand. Finally, after waiting outside the designated warehouse for nearly an hour, the door opened, revealing a short Japanese butler. "Ah...Contest winner? Follow" the strange man said, beckoning Dylan inside. Dylan followed cautiously, his neckbeard hairs standing up in shock when the door slammed shut behind them. After what seemed like an eon of following the strange man through dark, winding corridors, they finally reached a bizarre, empty room. Brightly lit, the room was entirely empty- even the Butler, who had mysteriously vanished, couldn't be found! Dylan looked around, noticing a crate over by the side. "****ing scrub, I bet there's items in there...Sakurai has been anticipating me. God **** n00b" Dylan said, chuckling in self-satisfaction.
Hmm? Ah, you must be Dylan" a calm voice said from behind him, breaking Dylan's laughter. Standing behind him was none other than Sakurai himself! "SAKURAIIIIIIIII!" Dylan screamed, spastically running towards Sakurai in a manner which seemed as if he was trying to imitate the wavedash animations from Super Smash Brothers. Sakurai smiled cruelly, his eyes giving a menacing glare from behind his full, youthful hair. Pulling out a taser, Sakurai jolted Dylan, sending his pasty, scrawny figure falling limply to the ground. Dylan tried to remain conscious, but Sakurai quickly put his foot down on Dylan's windpipe. The scent of shoe polish making him even dizzier, Dylan felt a crushing force on his trachea as Sakurai laughed coldly. The room began to spin now, and Dylan mercifully lost consciousness.
When Dylan awoke, he was restrained by strange cords and hooked up to a bizarre machine. He was also totally naked, his discoloured hands a bright red against the pale white of his nude body. Sakurai stood before him, wearing a surreal, purple outfit made of what appeared to be leather. It was... Captain Falcon's costume! Dylan's favourite character! Of course, this costume had some modifications. Even more skintight than Captain Falcon's own outfit, the seat of the leather pants had been cut out, showing Sakurai's shapely japanese rear. The crotch had been cut out as well, showing the front of a pink, Kirby-coloured thong. "SAKURAIII! YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE FORM....HIYAAAAAAHHHH!" Dylan screamed, making sound effects as he tried to raise his power level enough to break free. Dammit! He needed more training, obviously!
"Silence, slave." Sakurai said, taking Dylan by surprise. "You may be aware that I've changed your beloved game...Do you know why?" Sakurai asked, his voice level and calm as his thin lips formed a callous smile. "Of course" Dylan smirked, ready to give Sakurai a piece of his mind. "You're dumbing down the game for the scrubs. They don't understand how the game is supposed to be played, and you're giving in to those n00bs. You're defiling an amazingly complex fighting game!" Dylan bellowed, repeating what he had stated on an internet forum many moons ago. "Fool! Do you think I care about tournament players and casual players! Both factions, idiots!" Sakurai said, obviously displeased by his prisoner's answer. "No! I ruin your game...Because I can. I need...I need fuel." he said, his boyish eyes suddenly gaining a very sinister, crazed glimmer.
Dylan's eyes widened..."Fuel?" He asked, barely able to spit out a single word. "Yes...For my machine. You see...I plan to travel the universe! And for me to reach the stars, for me to unlock the secrets of life and death, to traverse the great beyond and discover the origin of all life...I need your fluids! Your tears!" Sakurai said, his hair becoming disheveled as his body language rose in intensity, his petit, lean body quivering with passion. "NOOOOOO! YOU MONSTER!" Dylan cried, suddenly smiled. He sounded just like Goku there! His smile faded as he remembered where he was, however. "You see, tournament players...Have something wrong with their brains. Taking children's games seriously is just a symptom of their true nature. This chemical imbalance changes the very biology of their bodies...The chemicals mix in their body fluids, making a potent fuel source...I had gathered enough tears to nearly take off...But I'm running short, and I don't have time!"
As Sakurai spoke, Dylan noticed the way his mouth moved as he spoke. His thin, healthy lips seemed to form the words in an almost seductive manner, and his body language...His wiry frame moved about wildly, like an untamed, savage rogue...He shook his head. What was happening to him? "...Tears are not enough" Sakurai continued. "Thus, I needed to capture you. You see, there is one fuel even more potent than the tears of tournament players. Their...Semen." Sakurai smiled now, noticing the surprise on Dylan's face.
At the word "semen", Dylan felt a strange heat rise up in him. Although Sakurai was a diabolical villain, he was quite attractive in the objective sense. His hair was untamed and youthful, his skin a beautiful pale colour and his eyes...So boyish and charming. Dylan blushed, unable to hide his developing erection now. What was happening?! "Ah, its taking effect. While you were unconscious, I gave you a special mixture. All of the greatest aphrodesiacs mankind has ever known. I see its working..." Sakurai said, his cruel smile erupting into a menacing grin as he edged towards Dylan. Dylan noticed his hands were freed from their bonds now, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was his captor, his incredibly sexy captor.
Dylan met Sakurai's lips now, his scarred, abhorrent hands meeting Sakurai's hips. Sakurai quickly placed a firm, experienced hand on Dylan's *****, which by now was as red as his hands. "Please...Take me" Dylan begged, turning over and sticking his *** towards his hated enemy, spreading his legs for Sakurai. Sakurai smiled and began to whisper sweet japanese into Dylan's ear as his underdeveloped Japanese **** worked its way into Dylan's unwashed, sweaty *******. It wasn't long until a tiny spurt of semen erupted from Sakurai's equally tiny *****, and the japanese became even louder. Dylan moved forward, taking Sakurai's **** in his hands now and getting on his knees, licking the semen and his own anal juices from Sakurai's pale ****. Finally, his master allowed him pleasure, knocking him into the floor and mounting him, his tight japanese buttocks bouncing on Dylan's pelvis.
With one hand, Sakurai reached down and gently stroked Dylan's neckbeard, drawing purrs of contentment from the sexually confused young man. After what seemed like hours of Sakurai's tight ******* soothing Dylan's raging erection, Dylan erupted in bliss, his juices exploding from his ****. He looked into Sakurai's eyes lovingly...But Sakurai's eyes had become a soulless void. From behind him, he pulled out a baseball bat..."What? But..I thought there was no items here!" Dylan said in horror...But it was too late, his body wouldn't move! "Ah, the muscle relaxants work. I just hope they've relaxed your rectum, white boy" Sakurai said with sheer malice, turning Dylan around and inserting the baseball bat into Dylan's *******, an explosion of rectal juices and blood flowing from Dylan's stretched sphincter.
The room began to spin again now, as he thought he saw Sakurai insert a milky fluid into what looked like a little Warpstar from Kirby. But no, it couldn't be. Next, he could have sworn he saw the star blast off into the sky, crashing through the roof. No, it must be the blood loss...As the hole in the roof let in a blinding sunlight, Dylan blacked out.
Months passed. Dylan had nearly forgotten the ordeal in the warehouse. Nobody knew what happened to Sakurai. The news reported he had disappeared completely. They suspected he was involved in money laundering, or mafia ties. Dylan knew better though, although he was to embarrassed to reveal the truth. "Dylan, wanna play some Smash Brothers?" his furry friend asked him suddenly. Dylan went white as a ghost, even his hands became pale and almost normal-looking. And to this day, every time someone mentions Sakurai, Smash Brothers or those dreaded items, he nearly has a nervous breakdown. Although, when he sees a shooting star, something changes in him...And he can't help but get a huge boner.
Dylan's scarred, crimson hands rubbed together in frantic anticipation. The summer had been dull and wrought with boredom, but now autumn was waning and the Winter was fast approaching. He turned on his DS to check the date- this was the right date, it had to be. He navigated his way to the calendar, not bothering with the copy of Mario Kart he had in the system. The game was boring- too many scrubs who believed snaking was a "cheap exploit". Dylan scoffed. They just couldn't understand, and how could they? They weren't on his level. Dylan shook his head, clearing the rage generated by those no-good scrubs cleanly from his mind. He stared at the date looking down at him. November 2nd. It was a bitter cold morning, and he was standing by the door of an old warehouse.
He had arrived here after his frien- well, his parents entered him in a contest. They knew how much he liked that "Super Smash Brothers" game, and in recent months Dylan had fallen into a depression. When they heard of a contest where the winner got to receive the newest Smash Brothers game a day early, they entered him in the contest without saying a word. When he won, Dylan was furious at first. The game had been ruined, and this was just a bitter reminder- contest draws were for scrubs! A real contest is a vicious competition, not a name draw! Nevertheless, he obviously won because of his superior naming skills- he always told other people that his name was the best, and he believed it. He believed he was the best at most things..Smash Brothers included. Although he now hated the game series, he had learned that Masahiro Sakurai would be personally giving the game to the winner. This was a golden opportunity. He could finally tell Sakurai his true feelings, how he hated what the man had done to his beloved game...He could finally follow through on his threats and...Kill Sakurai.
He had it all planned out in his mind- he would meet Sakurai, shake his hand...And then grab him in a throw, chain-grabbing him until his damage meter was in the hundreds. There's no such thing as cheap shots. "Cheap shots" is just what scrubs call something they don't understand. Finally, after waiting outside the designated warehouse for nearly an hour, the door opened, revealing a short Japanese butler. "Ah...Contest winner? Follow" the strange man said, beckoning Dylan inside. Dylan followed cautiously, his neckbeard hairs standing up in shock when the door slammed shut behind them. After what seemed like an eon of following the strange man through dark, winding corridors, they finally reached a bizarre, empty room. Brightly lit, the room was entirely empty- even the Butler, who had mysteriously vanished, couldn't be found! Dylan looked around, noticing a crate over by the side. "****ing scrub, I bet there's items in there...Sakurai has been anticipating me. God **** n00b" Dylan said, chuckling in self-satisfaction.
Hmm? Ah, you must be Dylan" a calm voice said from behind him, breaking Dylan's laughter. Standing behind him was none other than Sakurai himself! "SAKURAIIIIIIIII!" Dylan screamed, spastically running towards Sakurai in a manner which seemed as if he was trying to imitate the wavedash animations from Super Smash Brothers. Sakurai smiled cruelly, his eyes giving a menacing glare from behind his full, youthful hair. Pulling out a taser, Sakurai jolted Dylan, sending his pasty, scrawny figure falling limply to the ground. Dylan tried to remain conscious, but Sakurai quickly put his foot down on Dylan's windpipe. The scent of shoe polish making him even dizzier, Dylan felt a crushing force on his trachea as Sakurai laughed coldly. The room began to spin now, and Dylan mercifully lost consciousness.
When Dylan awoke, he was restrained by strange cords and hooked up to a bizarre machine. He was also totally naked, his discoloured hands a bright red against the pale white of his nude body. Sakurai stood before him, wearing a surreal, purple outfit made of what appeared to be leather. It was... Captain Falcon's costume! Dylan's favourite character! Of course, this costume had some modifications. Even more skintight than Captain Falcon's own outfit, the seat of the leather pants had been cut out, showing Sakurai's shapely japanese rear. The crotch had been cut out as well, showing the front of a pink, Kirby-coloured thong. "SAKURAIII! YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE FORM....HIYAAAAAAHHHH!" Dylan screamed, making sound effects as he tried to raise his power level enough to break free. Dammit! He needed more training, obviously!
"Silence, slave." Sakurai said, taking Dylan by surprise. "You may be aware that I've changed your beloved game...Do you know why?" Sakurai asked, his voice level and calm as his thin lips formed a callous smile. "Of course" Dylan smirked, ready to give Sakurai a piece of his mind. "You're dumbing down the game for the scrubs. They don't understand how the game is supposed to be played, and you're giving in to those n00bs. You're defiling an amazingly complex fighting game!" Dylan bellowed, repeating what he had stated on an internet forum many moons ago. "Fool! Do you think I care about tournament players and casual players! Both factions, idiots!" Sakurai said, obviously displeased by his prisoner's answer. "No! I ruin your game...Because I can. I need...I need fuel." he said, his boyish eyes suddenly gaining a very sinister, crazed glimmer.
Dylan's eyes widened..."Fuel?" He asked, barely able to spit out a single word. "Yes...For my machine. You see...I plan to travel the universe! And for me to reach the stars, for me to unlock the secrets of life and death, to traverse the great beyond and discover the origin of all life...I need your fluids! Your tears!" Sakurai said, his hair becoming disheveled as his body language rose in intensity, his petit, lean body quivering with passion. "NOOOOOO! YOU MONSTER!" Dylan cried, suddenly smiled. He sounded just like Goku there! His smile faded as he remembered where he was, however. "You see, tournament players...Have something wrong with their brains. Taking children's games seriously is just a symptom of their true nature. This chemical imbalance changes the very biology of their bodies...The chemicals mix in their body fluids, making a potent fuel source...I had gathered enough tears to nearly take off...But I'm running short, and I don't have time!"
As Sakurai spoke, Dylan noticed the way his mouth moved as he spoke. His thin, healthy lips seemed to form the words in an almost seductive manner, and his body language...His wiry frame moved about wildly, like an untamed, savage rogue...He shook his head. What was happening to him? "...Tears are not enough" Sakurai continued. "Thus, I needed to capture you. You see, there is one fuel even more potent than the tears of tournament players. Their...Semen." Sakurai smiled now, noticing the surprise on Dylan's face.
At the word "semen", Dylan felt a strange heat rise up in him. Although Sakurai was a diabolical villain, he was quite attractive in the objective sense. His hair was untamed and youthful, his skin a beautiful pale colour and his eyes...So boyish and charming. Dylan blushed, unable to hide his developing erection now. What was happening?! "Ah, its taking effect. While you were unconscious, I gave you a special mixture. All of the greatest aphrodesiacs mankind has ever known. I see its working..." Sakurai said, his cruel smile erupting into a menacing grin as he edged towards Dylan. Dylan noticed his hands were freed from their bonds now, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was his captor, his incredibly sexy captor.
Dylan met Sakurai's lips now, his scarred, abhorrent hands meeting Sakurai's hips. Sakurai quickly placed a firm, experienced hand on Dylan's *****, which by now was as red as his hands. "Please...Take me" Dylan begged, turning over and sticking his *** towards his hated enemy, spreading his legs for Sakurai. Sakurai smiled and began to whisper sweet japanese into Dylan's ear as his underdeveloped Japanese **** worked its way into Dylan's unwashed, sweaty *******. It wasn't long until a tiny spurt of semen erupted from Sakurai's equally tiny *****, and the japanese became even louder. Dylan moved forward, taking Sakurai's **** in his hands now and getting on his knees, licking the semen and his own anal juices from Sakurai's pale ****. Finally, his master allowed him pleasure, knocking him into the floor and mounting him, his tight japanese buttocks bouncing on Dylan's pelvis.
With one hand, Sakurai reached down and gently stroked Dylan's neckbeard, drawing purrs of contentment from the sexually confused young man. After what seemed like hours of Sakurai's tight ******* soothing Dylan's raging erection, Dylan erupted in bliss, his juices exploding from his ****. He looked into Sakurai's eyes lovingly...But Sakurai's eyes had become a soulless void. From behind him, he pulled out a baseball bat..."What? But..I thought there was no items here!" Dylan said in horror...But it was too late, his body wouldn't move! "Ah, the muscle relaxants work. I just hope they've relaxed your rectum, white boy" Sakurai said with sheer malice, turning Dylan around and inserting the baseball bat into Dylan's *******, an explosion of rectal juices and blood flowing from Dylan's stretched sphincter.
The room began to spin again now, as he thought he saw Sakurai insert a milky fluid into what looked like a little Warpstar from Kirby. But no, it couldn't be. Next, he could have sworn he saw the star blast off into the sky, crashing through the roof. No, it must be the blood loss...As the hole in the roof let in a blinding sunlight, Dylan blacked out.
Months passed. Dylan had nearly forgotten the ordeal in the warehouse. Nobody knew what happened to Sakurai. The news reported he had disappeared completely. They suspected he was involved in money laundering, or mafia ties. Dylan knew better though, although he was to embarrassed to reveal the truth. "Dylan, wanna play some Smash Brothers?" his furry friend asked him suddenly. Dylan went white as a ghost, even his hands became pale and almost normal-looking. And to this day, every time someone mentions Sakurai, Smash Brothers or those dreaded items, he nearly has a nervous breakdown. Although, when he sees a shooting star, something changes in him...And he can't help but get a huge boner.
