Social Smash 4 Social Topic 2.0

[Substitution]

Can you spot what's wrong here?

Sure. Those kids are so darn lucky.

 

[Sehnsucht]

Can you spot what's wrong here?

Her technique is a little sloppy.

 

[pickle962]

There are LITTLE KIDS watching mrs clause work the pole!

Can you spot what's wrong here?

 

[supercopper64]

Check out my 1,000 subscriber Melee Battlefield remix!!

 

[Morbi]

Sure. Those kids are so darn lucky.

Lucky? They are bored to tears, give them some real entertainment. A fake stripper is not going to cut it.

 

[Deleted member]

There are LITTLE KIDS watching mrs clause work the pole!

The bigger question here is why are they?
Was Christmas cancelled and now Mrs. Claus needs some way to pay the bills?
Is this actually Mr. and Mrs. Claus' daughter and she needs to pay for college?
Or is there something darker and this person is actually neither and just some regular woman trying to get enough money to support her crippling drug addiction?
Questions, questions.

 

[Sehnsucht]

Lucky? They are bored to tears, give them some real entertainment. A fake stripper is not going to cut it.

At least let the stripper be someone kids can identify with.

Like Loonette from the Big Comfy Couch.

 

[Soul.]

Anyone here has made a Metroid Fusion speed run?

 

[PsychoIncarnate]

I have dashi and miso

So I decided to make my own miso soup, since those are the main ingredients

But you know how they say a watched pot never boils

It still isn't friggin boiling

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

"Pic of the day. Here's the trophy gallery for the 3DS version. You can rotate the trophies by drawing circles on the bottom screen. Super Smash Bros. Brawl had tons of trophies, but rumor has it that the 3DS version alone may have more than Brawl. Looks like the Dr. Wily that we made from scratch for the 3DS version is on his knees in disbelief."

"Here's something new--the trophy shop. If you're having a hard time getting certain trophies, why not just buy them? They sometimes go on sale, too."

Can anyone tell me what that first trophy is in the Trophy Shop picture?

 

[PsychoIncarnate]

"Pic of the day. Here's the trophy gallery for the 3DS version. You can rotate the trophies by drawing circles on the bottom screen. Super Smash Bros. Brawl had tons of trophies, but rumor has it that the 3DS version alone may have more than Brawl. Looks like the Dr. Wily that we made from scratch for the 3DS version is on his knees in disbelief."

"Here's something new--the trophy shop. If you're having a hard time getting certain trophies, why not just buy them? They sometimes go on sale, too."

Can anyone tell me what that first trophy is in the Trophy Shop picture?

Tingle deconfirmed

Ah damn

 

[PLATINUM7]

Tingle deconfirmed

Ah damn

He was already seen as an Assist Trophy

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

Tingle deconfirmed

Ah damn

I mean, he was already shown as an Assist Trophy, so...

EDIT: DARN YOU, @ PLATINUM7 ! THOU HAST 'D ME

 

[PsychoIncarnate]

I mean, he was already shown as an Assist Trophy, so...

I did not know that

 

[mimgrim]

Can anyone tell me what that first trophy is in the Trophy Shop picture?

Looks like a Star Fox character, almost like an Andross with legs.

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

But seriously, can anyone tell me what that first trophy is on the Trophy Shop picture?

I have no idea what it is.

 

[Dr. James Rustles]

The Heaving of The Dead


A Completely Original Story By
Quilt Reversal


Featuring
The Social Thread Cadavers (and a few other tryhards)​

*******************************************************​

NOTE:
​

If you've been tagged in this post, then it means I was too lazy to remove the tags. This is a completely original story so I have no idea why they are there to begin with. Since this is a one-part narrative, you may not necessarily appear in this particular post; though if you have been tagged, you may not necessarily appear in this particular post.

You can see who does and doesn't appear in the story by reading the story.

Also, no one is safe from my wet quilt. Yeaahh

*******************************************************​

Foreword by PsychoReIncarnated​

This story has no meaning.

You read word after word, and like the thread we’re stuck in, the story progresses inexorably, gratingly toward the author's own amusement. You reach the end and are left to wonder what to do with yourself. Most people commit suicide, so you wouldn't be making the unpopular choice. You could maybe make like a tree and get out of here or something, but eventually you'll want to check back on Smashboards for alerts and you’d be forced to either remember the ordeal that is this completely original story or wallow in the currents of implacable entropy.

I guess I forgot to mention the heat death. It's a very real thing that the universe faces if the acceleration of the galaxies away from each other ends up exceeding the retractive force of their gravity on each other. What happens is that minute amounts of energy break free of the galaxies and, not returning, eventually causes them to be too cool to produce the life sustaining solar systems we have today. The alternative is that all the galaxies collapse back into each other, becoming one with this completely original story, fedoras, and Joseph Kony. So it's apples or oranges, really.

The memory of this story will die with you when you die also, as will your family, your friends, this planet, our sun, and everything else, until there is no thing and no one to witness the nowhere to come. Just about everyone and everything in this story is dead too, including the pacing, so it's kind of meta like that.

There is a silver lining, though. Very briefly, I was acknowledged long enough to be featured as a part of this great completely original story, so all my attempts at interjecting the conversation with unrelatable bull**** weren't made in vain.

*******************************************************​

ACT I

THIS CAN NOT POSSIBLY
​

*******************************************************​

After performing his sutras and tantric squats—as part of his regimen to somehow turn his chi into a hypersexualized piss-yellow mess, which is a weird fixation for a virgin to have—Vegito set himself before the terminal of his sleek, ergonomic PLATINUM7 doomsday device. After turning it on, he accessed the admin account by typing in a password that could only have been conceived after rigorously breathing through his asshole:

CrophMaruMariolu2W0vol41PEeeeeek_

He had to try a few times because typing that takes a while. Please understand. Once inside, Vegito skimmed through his alerts. Johnknight1 had flooded him with his usual self-aggrandizing nonsense, which Vegito made a point to skip lest he become another sycophant. He then checked out the latest Mr. Mumbles newsletter, the official name for the unofficial Niceguy-but-not-really fan club (though while Vegito was a proud member, Mumbles would never be a substitute for the real thing).

There was also a message by Soviet Prince, but he doesn’t send messages unless it involves intergalactic pterodactyl intercourse, so he’s more forgettable than the rest; Vegito glossed over the message without a second thought.

There was one message, however, that caught his eye. Untitled, it stood out like aBBYS's erection at a Chuck E. Cheese. Intrigued, he opened it.

Tomorrow night @ 13PM
Crazy Al’s Bar
Come alone
—S.

For some time, Vegito stared at the screen. Who was this mysterious S.? Shakira? He decided that this must be the case, and wondered if perhaps, at last, he would pull off some serious pelvic chi blasts. Already, he thought he could feel his prostate being divinely inspired.

That night, beneath his Sailor Siddhartha bedsheets, Vegito could hardly sleep. And when he did at last slip into unconsciousness, he dreamt that he was the protagonist of some unoriginal story, probably being the subject of unwarranted biting satire.

*******************************************************​

Vegito made his way out to the heart of New Generica, following the directions he had scribbled on the note he now clutched. His winding path led him into increasingly isolated back alleys, which appeared sleazier than they actually were through his sex addict eyes. But still, he trudged on. Soon enough, he found the place which he sought—Crazy Al’s Bar, denoted by the cruddy wooden post that hung over the door, swinging creakily in the night wind.

Before the door, Vegito braced himself and entered.

The descending stairs led him to the small, smoky cellar space that made up the bar. Though not packed, he took note of the inhabitants. The one who he figured was Crazy Al stood behind the counter; the man polished a glass with his kerchief, staring at him with wide and feverish eyes.

"WE GOT A DEAD ONE hello," he greeted from afar.

Off to the side was a titanic man who had clearly set aside time for tea; his sickly disposition suggested he might have a nasty case of infractions, however, so Vegito made it a point to steer clear from him.

“Greetings!”

The holler came from the counter. Vegito turned to the two Victorian gentlemen who sat there and approached. “How about cavorting with me and Sir Kusanagi in the upstairs?” said the one with the mad photoshop skills.

Vegito deliberated. “I’m… here on business.”

Moon Monkey looked Vegito up and down through his monocle. “I did not mean to offend,” Moon justified. “You were dressed the role.” It was at this point that the narrator revealed Vegito was wearing nothing but a leopardskin thong.

Vegito looked at his feet and began shuffling them. "No, actually, I've been doing chi thrusts all my life..."

Wave and Moon turned their countenances in union and gave each other a knowing look. "Is the young sir inexperienced? It's no sin, perhaps we could even-"

"Get the **** over here, Vegito. I swear, you are like a government machine designed to waste time," exclaimed a voice from across the bar.

The boy excused himself and pushed further through the bar, Crazy Al’s crazed ramblings punctuating the raunchy laughter that continued behind him. In the back, he spotted a robed figure who beckoned him over. Vegito went forth gingerly, taking in the eclectic assortment of people seated at the round table. At his arrival, they all turned to look at him.

“Ah, you’ve made it.” The figure with the baritone voice had the appearance of a bespectacled Gary Numan behind a glass pane. The monochrome tint was extremely jarring. “Please, have a seat.”

Vegito took to the remaining chair, placing his leopardskin thong beside him. “Are you S.?” he asked.

“Yes. My name is Sehnsucht. I’m the one who summoned you here. All of you." Vegito was disappointed that S. didn’t turn out to be Shakira, but held his tongue as Sehnsucht began to acquaint Vegito with his present company, going 'round the table.

First, there was Swampasaur. With a name like that, you would have expected the guy to look like some tentacled swamp dinosaur monstrosity; and he did.

Then came Dark Phazon. “Hello,” he said, standing up indignantly to shake Vegito’s hand. “My defining character trait is that I like real talk, son. Real talk.”

Following him was HyperFalcon—a bass vorecore otherkin who was concealed inside an actual bass. FalKoopa came next, a fellow in green clothes seated to Vegito’s right. He said he was a moderator, which immediately drew Vegito’s ire and compulsions to act out; Fal leaned over in his chair to flash the Red Ribbon of the Mod found on his left testicle, which Vegito thought was so cool regardless.

Lastly, there was CliffJumper, to Vegito’s left. Of them all, Cliff seemed the most neurotic, but nobody could say anything because at least he had a girlfriend, even if she was fictional.

“Now that everyone is accounted for,” said Sehnsucht “we can begin. I’ve contacted you all to enlist you for a very important—and highly risky—suicide mission. Tell me… what do you know of Quilt?”

The others grew still, blanching at the name. Vegito raised an eyebrow. “Quilt?” he asked.

Sehnsucht became further pretentious. “Outside New Generica, in the deep of the woods, lies a towering spire of crushed Mountain Dew cans and blankets, known by its host as the Needle. In that sordid tower resides a dickbag Unmoderator which goes by the name of Quilt Reversal. Only I have been able to discern the true nature of Quilt. For you see, we are all in a new world, born from the old, in which Quilt is the new -"

"Uuuuh COME BACK ANYtime oh god." came Crazy Al from across the bar.

“Uhhhhhhhhh....?” went HyperFalcon, voice slightly muffled from moving through the bowels of a giant bass.

Something was changing. Something in the very air.

“Buh?” exlaimed CliffJumper as he limped onto the table, a fine tympanic sound emanating from the hollow of his head banging the table.

“I don’t get it,” said Vegito. “What's going on? Why is everyone groaning?”

Everyone began slithering back in their chairs, their eyes rolling back in their heads. CliffJumper convulsed on top of the table, his head producing a funky fresh beat. Vegito channelled his pelvic chi in preparation and just as he was starting to get into the freaky-deaky rhythm of what was going on, HyperFalcon burst from the bowels of the bass, her claws flaying its flesh open as she made her way to Vegito.

In the last of Vegito's moments of clear thought and before his face was very un-groovily bit off, he remembered he had left his admin logged into his doomsday device, which would release the spores that would herald a zombie apocalypse in case he felt like it.

*******************************************************​

From the porch of Vegito's house, Quilt looked out onto New Generica.

“Sorry, Sehnsucht bby, but I can't let you do that." He took a smug draw off his cigarette, oblivious to the irritation he was causing with the zombie apocalypse. A deep hit, and smoke came billowing out, all done to make him look cool to compensate for lacking a real personality. "I'm probably going to go practice some waveshines and call it day," he announced to nothing, acting like it was even relatable, before verbally copying and pasting some lyrics from a song he happened to be thinking about at the time:

"I'm at a payphone, trying to call home,
All of my change I spent on you."

*******************************************************​

END OF ACT​

*******************************************************

​

Thus ends the only part of this anticlimactic adventure.

And now, the roster as leaked by Sal:

[collapse=DRAMATIS PERSONA]

Non-spoilers:
[collapse=THOSE WHO APPEARED OR WERE MENTIONED (IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER]
@Mr. Mumbles
@Johnknight1
@aBBYS
@HyperFalcon
@FalKoopa
@Dark Phazon
@soviet prince
@ PsychoIncarnate
@ Rocket Raccoon
@ PLATINUM7
@CrophMaruMariolu2W0vol41PEeeeeek
@dimensionsword64
@ Substitution
@ TheFirstPoppyBro
@crazyal02
@TitanTeaTime
@Kaye Cruiser
@Moon Monkey
@Swampasaur
@Kermit the Ninja
@Nielicus
@Mega Bidoof
@TewnLeenk
@CliffJumper
(Me, @ Sehnsucht !)
@The Light Music Club
@RaccoonBL
@ The Original Robot boy
@TeenGirlSquad
@Backgammon
@ Cap'nChreest
@ToasterBrains
@Chucklehead Tom
@skaaaa

TOTAL: 37 users
[/collapse]

Kind of spoilers:
[collapse=THOSE WHO WERE NOT (YET) (IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER)]
@Aerodrome
@FalKoopa
@Frostwraith
@Hong
@HunterNinjaReaperPirate98
@IsmaR
@KenithTheGatherer
@MaskO'Gears
@ Morbi
@ MSmariosonic
@Ndayday
@Pacack
@Radical Beam
@Shaya
@ Dr. James Rustles
@Zhadgon
[/collapse]

 

[Soul.]

Wait, what. A Trophy Shop? That's cool.

 

[Rocket Raccoon]

The Heaving of The Dead


A Completely Original Story By
Quilt Reversal


Featuring
The Social Thread Cadavers (and a few other tryhards)​

*******************************************************​

NOTE:
​

If you've been tagged in this post, then it means I was too lazy to remove the tags. This is a completely original story so I have no idea why they are there to begin with. Since this is a one-part narrative, you may not necessarily appear in this particular post; though if you have been tagged, you may not necessarily appear in this particular post.

You can see who does and doesn't appear in the story by reading the story.

Also, no one is safe from my wet quilt. Yeaahh

*******************************************************​

Foreword by PsychoReIncarnated​

This story has no meaning.

You read word after word, and like the thread we’re stuck in, the story progresses inexorably, gratingly toward the author's own amusement. You reach the end and are left to wonder what to do with yourself. Most people commit suicide, so you wouldn't be making the unpopular choice. You could maybe make like a tree and get out of here or something, but eventually you'll want to check back on Smashboards for alerts and you’d be forced to either remember the ordeal that is this completely original story or wallow in the currents of implacable entropy.

I guess I forgot to mention the heat death. It's a very real thing that the universe faces if the acceleration of the galaxies away from each other ends up exceeding the retractive force of their gravity on each other. What happens is that minute amounts of energy break free of the galaxies and, not returning, eventually causes them to be too cool to produce the life sustaining solar systems we have today. The alternative is that all the galaxies collapse back into each other, becoming one with this completely original story, fedoras, and Joseph Kony. So it's apples or oranges, really.

The memory of this story will die with you when you die also, as will your family, your friends, this planet, our sun, and everything else, until there is no thing and no one to witness the nowhere to come. Just about everyone and everything in this story is dead too, including the pacing, so it's kind of meta like that.

There is a silver lining, though. Very briefly, I was acknowledged long enough to be featured as a part of this great completely original story, so all my attempts at interjecting the conversation with unrelatable bull**** weren't made in vain.

*******************************************************​

ACT I

THIS CAN NOT POSSIBLY
​

*******************************************************​

After performing his sutras and tantric squats—as part of his regimen to somehow turn his chi into a hypersexualized piss-yellow mess, which is a weird fixation for a virgin to have—Vegito set himself before the terminal of his sleek, ergonomic PLATINUM7 doomsday device. After turning it on, he accessed the admin account by typing in a password that could only have been conceived after rigorously breathing through his *******:

CrophMaruMariolu2W0vol41PEeeeeek_

He had to try a few times because typing that takes a while. Please understand. Once inside, Vegito skimmed through his alerts. Johnknight1 had flooded him with his usual self-aggrandizing nonsense, which Vegito made a point to skip lest he become another sycophant. He then checked out the latest Mr. Mumbles newsletter, the official name for the unofficial Niceguy-but-not-really fan club (though while Vegito was a proud member, Mumbles would never be a substitute for the real thing).

There was also a message by Soviet Prince, but he doesn’t send messages unless it involves intergalactic pterodactyl intercourse, so he’s more forgettable than the rest; Vegito glossed over the message without a second thought.

There was one message, however, that caught his eye. Untitled, it stood out like aBBYS's erection at a Chuck E. Cheese. Intrigued, he opened it.

Tomorrow night @ 13PM
Crazy Al’s Bar
Come alone
—S.

For some time, Vegito stared at the screen. Who was this mysterious S.? Shakira? He decided that this must be the case, and wondered if perhaps, at last, he would pull off some serious pelvic chi blasts. Already, he thought he could feel his prostate being divinely inspired.

That night, beneath his Sailor Siddhartha bedsheets, Vegito could hardly sleep. And when he did at last slip into unconsciousness, he dreamt that he was the protagonist of some unoriginal story, probably being the subject of unwarranted biting satire.

*******************************************************​

Vegito made his way out to the heart of New Generica, following the directions he had scribbled on the note he now clutched. His winding path led him into increasingly isolated back alleys, which appeared seedier than they actually were through his sheltered eyes. But still, he trudged on. Soon enough, he found the place which he sought—Crazy Al’s Bar, denoted by the cruddy wooden post that hung over the door, swinging creakily in the night wind.

Before the door, Vegito braced himself. After checking his shoes, his hair, and his privilege, he entered.

The descending stairs led him to the small, smoky cellar space that made up the bar. Though not packed, he took note of the inhabitants. The one who he figured was Crazy Al stood behind the counter; the man polished a glass with his kerchief, staring at him with wide and feverish eyes.

"WE GOT A LIVE ONE hello," he greeted from afar.

Off to the side was a titanic man who had clearly set aside time for tea; his sickly disposition suggested he might have a nasty case of the Pranks, however, so Vegito made it a point to steer clear from him.

“YOOOOOO!”

The holler came from the counter. Vegito turned to the two black gentlemen who sat there and approached. “How about cavorting with me and Sir Kusanagi in the upstairs?” said the one with the mad photoshop skills.

Vegito deliberated. “I’m… here on business.”

Moon Monkey looked Vegito up and down through his monocle. “I did not mean to offend,” Moon justified. “You were dressed the role.” It was at this point that the narrator revealed Vegito was wearing nothing but a leopard thong.

Vegito looked at his feet and began shuffling them. "No, actually, I've been doing chi thrusts all my life..."

Wave and Moon turned their countenances in union and gave each other a knowing look. "Is the young sir inexperienced? It's no sin, perhaps we could even-"

"Get the **** over here, Vegito. I swear, you are like a government machine designed to waste time," exclaimed a voice from across the bar.

The boy excused himself and pushed further through the bar, Crazy Al’s crazed ramblings punctuating the raunchy laughter that continued behind him. In the back, he spotted a robed figure who beckoned him over. Vegito went forth gingerly, taking in the eclectic assortment of people seated at the round table. At his arrival, they all turned to look at him.

“Ah, you’ve made it.” The figure with the baritone voice had the appearance of a bespectacled Gary Numan behind a glass pane. The monochrome tint was extremely jarring. “Please, have a seat.”

Vegito took to the remaining chair, placing his leopard thong beside him. “Are you S.?” he asked.

“Yes. My name is Sehnsucht. I’m the one who summoned you here. All of you." Vegito was disappointed that S. didn’t turn out to be Shakira, but held his tongue as Sehnsucht began to acquaint Vegito with his present company, going 'round the table.

First, there was Swampasaur. With a name like that, you would have expected the guy to look like some tentacled swamp dinosaur monstrosity; and he did.

Then came Dark Phazon. “Hello,” he said, standing up indignantly to shake Vegito’s hand. “My defining character trait is that I like real talk, son. Real talk.”

Following him was HyperFalcon—a bass vorecore otherkin who was concealed inside an actual bass. FalKoopa came next, a fellow in green clothes seated to Vegito’s right. He said he was a moderator, which immediately drew Vegito’s ire and compulsions to act out; Fal leaned over in his chair to flash the Red Ribbon of the Mod found on his left testicle, which Vegito thought was so cool regardless.

Lastly, there was CliffJumper, to Vegito’s left. Of them all, Cliff seemed the most neurotic, but nobody could say anything because at least he had a girlfriend, even if she was fictional.

“Now that everyone is accounted for,” said Sehnsucht “we can begin. I’ve contacted you all to enlist you for a very important—and highly risky—suicide mission. Tell me… what do you know of Quilt?”

The others grew still, blanching at the name. Vegito raised an eyebrow. “Quilt?” he asked.

Sehnsucht became further pretentious. “Outside New Generica, in the deep of the woods, lies a towering spire of crushed Mountain Dew cans and blankets, known by its host as the Needle. In that sordid tower resides a ****bag Unmoderator which goes by the name of Quilt Reversal. Only I have been able to discern the true nature of Quilt. For you see, we are all in a new world, born from the old, in which Quilt is the new -"

"Uuuuh COME BACK ANYtime oh god." came Crazy Al from across the bar.

“Uhhhhhhhhh....?” went HyperFalcon, voice slightly muffled from moving through the bowels of a giant bass.

Something was changing. Something in the very air.

“Buh?” exlaimed CliffJumper as he limped onto the table, a fine tympanic sound emanating from the hollow of his head banging the table.

“I don’t get it,” said Vegito. “What's going on? Why is everyone groaning?”

Everyone began slithering back in their chairs, their eyes rolling back in their heads. CliffJumper convulsed on top of the table, his head producing a fine funky fresh beat. Vegito chaneled is pelvic chi in preparation and just as he was starting to get into the freaky-deaky rhythm of what was going on, HyperFalcon burst from the bowels of the bass, her claws flaying its flesh open as she made her way to Vegito.

In the last of Vegito's moments of clear thought and before his face was very un-groovily bit off, he remembered he had left his admin logged into his doomsday device, which would release the spores that would herald a zombie apocalypse in case he felt like it.

*******************************************************​

From the porch of Vegito's house, Quilt looked out onto New Generica.

“Sorry, Sehnsucht bby, but I can't let you do that." He took a smug draw off his cigarette, oblivious to the irritation he was causing with the zombie apocalypse. A deep hit, and smoke came billowing out, all done to make him look cool to compensate for lacking a real personality. "I'm probably going to go practice some waveshines and call it day," he announced to nothing, acting like it was even relatable, before verbally copying and pasting some lyrics from a song he happened to be thinking about at the time:

"I'm at a payphone, trying to call home,
All of my change I spent on you."

*******************************************************​

END OF ACT​

*******************************************************

​

Thus ends the only part of this anticlimactic adventure.

And now, the roster as leaked by Sal:

[collapse=DRAMATIS PERSONA]

Non-spoilers:
[collapse=THOSE WHO APPEARED OR WERE MENTIONED (IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER]
@Mr. Mumbles
@aBBYS
@HyperFalcon
@FalKoopa
@Dark Phazon
@soviet prince
@ PsychoIncarnate
@ Rocket Raccoon
@ PLATINUM7
@CrophMaruMariolu2W0vol41PEeeeeek
@dimensionsword64
@ Substitution
@ TheFirstPoppyBro
@crazyal02
@TitanTeaTime
@Kaye Cruiser
@Moon Monkey
@Swampasaur
@Kermit the Ninja
@Nielicus
@Mega Bidoof
@TewnLeenk
@CliffJumper
(Me, @ Sehnsucht !)
@The Light Music Club
@RaccoonBL
@ The Original Robot boy
@TeenGirlSquad
@Backgammon
@ Cap'nChreest
@ToasterBrains
@Chucklehead Tom
@skaaaa

TOTAL: 37 users
[/collapse]

Kind of spoilers:
[collapse=THOSE WHO WERE NOT (YET) (IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER)]
@Aerodrome
@FalKoopa
@Frostwraith
@Hong
@HunterNinjaReaperPirate98
@IsmaR
@KenithTheGatherer
@MaskO'Gears
@ Morbi
@ MSmariosonic
@Ndayday
@Pacack
@Radical Beam
@Shaya
@ Dr. James Rustles
@Zhadgon
[/collapse]

Meanwhile in a parallel universe next to @ Sehnsucht .

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

All right, so now we have Dr. Wily, Andrew Oikonny, Phantom, Viridi, Oshawott, Tingle, and Goomba trophies and a Trophy Shop.

 

[MSmariosonic]

Oh looks... It's Dr. Wahwee.

 

[PsychoIncarnate]

IF I had the rest of the proper ingredients, this would be the best miso I've ever tasted

Making it myself works wonderfully

I just need to find the rest of the ingredients for full success

 

[Dr. James Rustles]

Meanwhile in a parallel universe next to @ Sehnsucht .

Unfortunately there is some errata that I'm continuously correcting because the Preview straight up lied about properly carrying all my changes to the next page.

 

[Deleted member]

The trophy gallery and shop both look very nice and look forward to trying them out. I thought Smash 3DS wouldn't have Play Coins support at all, well, I was proven wrong.

 

[Soul.]

Lol. Still waiting for the competitiveness to begin. We have like what, 36 days left?
Trophies are cool, though.

 

[PsychoIncarnate]

Den-O is a little TOO much like Super Sentai and not enough like Kamen Rider IMO

The trains are really close to zords, and the large monsters coming out of the small ones reminds me too much of it

It has a very light hearted attitude compared to Kamen Riders of the past

Although I do realize it's suppose to be a comedy season

 

[PaperJames]

Ok so in the second picture (the shop) notice how the background is characters. I recognize all except in the bottom right corner there's a character in blue? Anyone recognize?

 

[Sehnsucht]

Everyone. I have a confession to make.

My story, The Weaving of the Thread, is a plagiarized lie.

@ Dr. James Rustles previewed his story, The Heaving of the Dead, to me in confidence; I betrayed that trust by taking his words, modifying every couple of them, and passing the resulting story off as my own creation. I then pasted the revised narrative several days ago in this thread.

I did this because I felt inadequate. I recognized the brilliance of his piece, and thought perhaps, even if only for a moment, I could shine in the spotlight, basking in the recognition that I've always wondered about. That I've always craved.

I know that I'm in the wrong. What I have done is egregious and shameful. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, nor for your pity or your disdain (though I certainly do deserve the latter, and even welcome it).

I will leave this thread. Going back to whence I came, never to return. Alone, as I once was. As I deserve to be.

Forgive me, father.

--Sehnsucht

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

Ok so in the second picture (the shop) notice how the background is characters. I recognize all except in the bottom right corner there's a character in blue? Anyone recognize?

I'm pretty sure that's Sonic.

 

[MewtwoMaster2002]

The trophy gallery and shop both look very nice and look forward to trying them out. I thought Smash 3DS wouldn't have Play Coins support at all, well, I was proven wrong.

The coins have the Smash symbol...

 

[Deleted member]

The coins have the Smash symbol...

The "Buy with Play Coins" can be seen on the touch screen.

 

[MewtwoMaster2002]

Didn't you see the "Buy with Play Coins" in the touch screen part of the Trophy Shop image?

If that part has a Smash symbol coin instead of a 3DS-styled one, similar to those found in the Home Menu, it doesn't matter. xD

Aah...didn't notice that. Smash coins are easier to earn anyways.

 

[TheFirstPoppyBro]

Nevermind, no need for a reply...
It's in game coins.

What?

It says it right above the trophy selection. You were right.

 

[Soul.]

Uh, who's hoping for Smashville to be in Smash 3DS?

 

[Deleted member]

Yeah it's in there. More like an optional thing if you don't want to spend Smash Coins that much or viceversa (play coins).

 

[The Original Robot boy]

Look, there are various good shows this season. But THIS SHOW, is one of those shows. The shows that nearly every frame of animation is worthy of praise, fantastic aesthetics, music and voicessssssssssssss.


Hanayamata, it's because you're bad and you should feel extremely bad.
But I was also bad. It took me until episode 3 to realise it's potential. It started with me going "SCAMMED" in episode 1 to, "OH MY GOD THIS OP" in episode 2, to lalalla I forgot this show existed to "YES YES YES YES YES YES YES" in episode 3, a quick rewatch (as quick as pausing to wait in between smiles from every scene is) of the previous 2 episodes to realise how terribly lazy I was in appreciating the show thus far. NOW ITS GOLDEN ERA TIME.

View attachment 20793

 

[JabbatheHutt]

Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft. Crappy pop covers are vastly inferior to freaking Billy Joel.

Son, I don't care which American Idol reject you get.
You can never beat Billy Joel.

Exactly you can't beat Billy Joel.

Im a HARD CORE billy joel fan.

Been to 45 Concerts from 1999 to present day.

He is amazing.

Top 5 songs;

1. No Mans land
2. This Night
3. The Entertainer
4. Miami 2017
5. Scenes From an italian Retsurant

The list goes on.

Id love maybe to see a Billy song or two make it into smash.

I know its mostly video game music with no vocals, but its good fighting tunes.

 

[The Original Robot boy]

What?

It says it right above the trophy selection. You were right.

well there goes my hopes for another kid icarus rep also that's pretty nice i hope if more alts are revealed that is there a shop to buy them?

 

[Cap'nChreest]

View attachment 20787
(the fact that any of this is not in 3D should be obviously big large flags telling you to watch)

I'm also going to have to make a template out of this.
View attachment 20788

Gosh diggity dang.

Animation is a wonderful thing.

If only this wasn't extremely "slice-of life" looking. Then I'd watch it.

 

[MewtwoMaster2002]

I went to the lottery today in Pokemon X. A Magikarp helped me win a Master Ball. This is the second time I got all 5 digits at the lottery.