The Greatest Enemy

[01.08.00] » by David Solomon

MARSHMALLOW ONE: HE RETURNS

From the deep depths of a prison that I won't tell you the name of because you don't need to know it and I can't think of any good names for a prison at the time, Mario stepped out from his cell. He followed the guard that looked surprisingly like Cloud Strife (obviously it wasn't, because that just wouldn't make sense. I mean, let's be serious, folks, why would Cloud Strife get a job at a prison), and entered a small room with four people around a table. On the table was paper. This paper came from trees. Oh, no! It wasn't any of that synthetic stuff.

"Sit down, please," The man sitting in the middle of the table said. Mario sat down. "You've served five years of your life sentence. But we think that five years in an overcrowded prison with lots of sick, demented people doing things to you that I don't want to and don't need to mention is more than enough time to convince someone of the wrongs of doing something wrong. Don't you agree?"

"Oh, absolutely, sir," Mario agreed. "Not to mention the marijuana was hardly satisfactory."

"The what?" The man sitting on the floor asked.

Mario turned to his left to look at the man. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

The man looked up. "Well, there were only four chairs, and we didn't realize this until it was time for your to come in. So we drew straws, but they were all the same size."

"They were not, you stinking liar!" The man on the right side of the table shouted. "You're just a sore loser!"

"Hey!" The man on the floor shouted and stood up. "You wanna make something of it, you cheap !@#$%?"

"!@#$% you, !@#$%!" The man on the right side retorted.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Mario shouted. "What about me getting out of prison?"

"What about the marijuana?" The man in the middle asked.

"What marijuana?" Mario asked.

"The straws were the same damn size!" The man on the floor shouted.

"No, they were not!" The man on the right side shouted back.

"Oh, for Althena's sake!" The man in the middle shouted. "Parole granted, get the hell out of here, Mario!"

"You son of a !@#$%! I'll kill you!" As Mario left the room, he could here the sounds of shouting, hitting, and breaking. Here's the catch: Mario is going to enter the video game world at around the same time that the most important event in video game history occurs! Poor Mario! Teeheehee!

MARSHMALLOW TWO: THE GREATEST ENEMY

Cloud's amazingly boring new job at the Sim City convenience store had tired him out after a long day of bagging groceries. Cloud was really hoping for a long strand of promotions that would send him up to at least a fairly interesting rank. But aside from that, all Cloud could do was plop down on the couch in front of the TV, and eat a TV dinner. Oh, I'm sorry. Did I fool you? No, Tifa isn't a housewife! How dare you think that, you sexist pig! Tifa, for those who care, happened to work at Hooters. Ahem…I mean, the new 7^th heaven bar erected in honor of Final Fantasy 7. Funny, that two video game stars were now reduced to working at simple jobs that required no experience at all. Cloud wasn't thinking of any of that, though, because bagging for eight hours gets really frustrating, and sometimes, you just gotta plop in front of the TV. A new "Earth" channel had been added to the cable channels, and Cloud was watching the news.

"And that's why Janet Reno is so ugly," the reporter said, finishing up the previous story. "In other news, newly elected senator John Richardson has big plans for his term in the Senate. I'll now transfer down to Bob, who's interviewing Richardson right now."

"Thank you, Mary," Bob said. "With me right now is Senator Richardson. Now, senator, would you kindly tell us what your plans are for your term?"

"I will indeed, Robert," John said. "My first plan for this term, is to eradicate this vile plague known as video games from all existence."

Cloud would have spit out beer if he was drinking it. But no, Tifa said it was bad to drown your sorrows in alcohol. And you know what? She's right. Alcohol is bad, and you should be ashamed if you've ever drunk any, whether it's beer, wine, liquor, or marijuana…well, anyway, Cloud instead dropped his jaw with fear.

"Video games? " Bob asked. "Vile plague? Explain."

"Every single one of those sentences, Bob," John began. "Is a fragment. A dirty, rotten, stinking, good for nothing, fragment. You know what? That's my second order of business. To get rid of fragments for good!"

"Answer the question, please, Mr. Richardson."

"Oh, right. Video games, Robert-"

"Call me Bob. That's my name."

"Robert is the longer version of Bob!"

While that conversation continued Tifa came in.

"Ah, what a jolly good day at 7^th heaven!" She shouted, with surprising enthusiasm. "Yeah, right! I hate this job, Cloud. And you hate yours. Can't we do something? I mean, we were in the greatest of all the Final Fantasy games!"

"Some people think it's the worst," Cloud pointed out.

"Yeah, well, those people…"

"Anyway," John on the television continued. "Video games have polluted our society for what I estimate to be about twenty years. They have destroyed the social lives of millions. They are the result of all the violence of the world. They must be stopped!"
Tifa's jaw dropped. "Oh, my God!"

Cloud jumped out of his seat. "We need to warn everyone!"

"How would we do that?" Tifa asked.

"It's very simple. I'll call somebody over the phone. Then, that person and me will each call someone over the phone. That'll keep happening until everyone on this planet knows! Hey, we're all brothers here."

"But would Nintendo or Sony believe us?" Tifa asked.

Cloud thought for a moment. That moment lasted exactly 2.7 seconds. Speaking of decimals, how could there be a number of casualties less than one but greater than zero? Because in Terminator 2…um…what was I talking about again? Oh, that's right…then Cloud thought of an idea. "We'll use people that have made games on multiple systems to solve that problem. You know, Grandia, Doom, stuff like that."

MARSHMALLOW THREE: THE MEETING

"And now, presenting the Chancellor of video games."

The Chancellor stood high on his pillar, as the mass bulk of video games characters and representatives filled the room.

"It's is apparent that we have a very serious problem," The chancellor began.

"I'll say!" Squall shouted, from his pillar. "The coffee at 7^th heaven tastes like raw sewage!"

"That's not the problem, you uncaring idiot!" Rinoa shouted.

"Well, how else would I get anyone to hear what I have to say?" Squall pointed out.

"Hey, Squall," Quistis said. "I LOOOVE it when you yell. Can you divorce Rinoa so I can do you?"

"WHAT?!" Squall and Rinoa shouted simultaneously. Squall gave a very strange look. "Where did that come from?"

"Well," Irvine began. "You see, she took an entire bottle of gel-cap pain killers that she thought were olives. That's the last time I ever get those specially designed olive-shaped pain killers."

"Olive-shaped pain killers?" Squall commented. "Who writes this crap?"

"I do," I shouted from the sky above. "And don't you forget it!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please!" The chancellor shouted. But before he could say anything, Senator John Richardson, amazingly, walked into the Federation of Video Games. "Senator Richardson? Why…it's an honor!"
"Save the sarcasm, pinhead," Richardson stated. On either side of him were two guards, apparently for protection (the guards are humans defending his life, you perverts! I'm not referring to condoms). Of course, there was no way the two guards could defend him should the entire world of video games decide to kill him. "I have to be honest with all of you. You guys are the worst form of slime in this universe."

"He's got my number," said the slime from Dragon Warrior.

"Yep, that's me alright," agreed the slime from Lunar: Silver Star.

" No, that's not what I meant!" John angrily blasphemated (the word I just used is completely and utterly made up, although it sounds like a real word. For more information, please see words such as elasticated, and googenshplagle). "What I meant was, you guys are trash. Worthless pieces of trash that are polluting the economy. You know, stuff like that. I am here to tell you-"

"How did you get here?" Cecil asked.

"That's not important," Richardson responded. "What is important-"

"Well, it's important to me!" Butz stated.

"You don't need to know!" Richardson shouted, getting angry.

"Tell, us!" Tellah shouted. "Tell us now!"

"Yeah, and doesn't the coffee at 7^th heaven taste like raw sewage?" Squall asked.

"Would you shut up about the !@#$%ing coffee?" Rinoa shouted, slapping Squall on the back of the head, thus knocking him off his pillar and on to the thin alley of ground between the FF7 and FF8 pillars. Rinoa then proceeded to jump down herself, and slam Squall between the two pillars, with the help of Tifa, who jumped down. Apparently, she was insulted.

"You see!" Richardson shouted. "You creations are prone to violence! The violence in your hearts, or whatever the hell you guys consist of, is spreading to the Earth, and I am here to-"

"You still haven't told us how you got here!" Exor boomed from the Super Mario RPG pillar.

"Fine! I'll !@#$% tell you how I !@#$%ing got here! The pentagon has created a special virtual reality teleportation device. It sent me here!"
"Wow!" Sonic shouted from his pillar. "That's so uncreative! Really, I'm going to have a talk with the author of this fanfic. His uncreative crap names are starting to piss me off."

"Now can I explain why I am here?" Richardson asked.

"Yes, senator," The chancellor stated.

"I am here to tell you that this event won't be like it usually is with senators trying to get rid of you. We're going to have a full blown trial…ON EARTH…to see if the world of video games should be punished with complete extermination, or if they should remain, as they are a benefit to the economy. The trial will begin in a week. I suggest you prepare." He then left.

The chancellor got up. "This is a very serious problem, fellow video game people. I recommend each of the four councils get together and think of legal ways to get Richardson off our backs." It was at that moment that a person from the video game penitentiary got up and shouted, "The straws were the same size!"

"How many times are you gonna bring this up?" Another worker from the same area asked.

"This is an important issue!" The person who was now recognized by both Mario and me as the floor man shouted. "And I won't drop it until it is heard!"

"They were not the same size!" The other man shouted. He then punched the floor man, starting a fight. The chancellor, high atop his tall pillar, only sighed.

MARSHMALLOW FOUR: A NARRATIVE INTERLUDE

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As you can probably tell, by now, I am referring to the parts, or chapters, as marshmallows. Why am I doing this? Well, to be honest with you, I'm not intentionally. You see, every time I prepare to write "chapter", or change the word marshmallow to chapter, Kirby spits a monster at me, hitting my head, and knocking me out for a few seconds. When I come to, he looks at me, and states "This will keep happening until I have my own RPG!" and flies off. After many attempts to both change the word marshmallow to chapter, and even a few attempts by Aya Brea to assassinate Kirby (I paid her. I was about to pay her extra, but she told me that she wasn't a prostitute, and would kill me if I made any moves on her. Darn), I finally decided to give up. You may also notice that I'm inappropriately and excessively using parenthesis. Oh, you're not? Great! I mean, on with the show!

MARSHMALLOW FIVE: THE IDEAS

"This meeting of the Nintendo council will come to order," Mario stated, standing atop the small stage. "The idea that Luigi and I have come up with is to give Richardson multiple bribes. The more, the merrier. Since our cash system in no way corresponds with any cash system on Earth, giving him cash is out of the question. This is the list so far…ahem. 'Samus Aran's body, Princess Toadstool's body, Zelda's body.' Any other ideas?"

"Now wait just a minute!" Samus shouted. "I refuse to agree with that!"

"Yeah!" Zelda screamed. "We all disagree with those, and so they must be discarded!"

"Can't the bribes be non-sexual?" Princess Toadstool asked.

"Even better!" Mario complemented. "Well, let's get cracking on that list!"

"I'll give up my sword," Link said.

"Gufauha! He can have Smelter!" Smithy stated. "He's of no use to me anymore!"

"Hey! Are you insulting my talent?" Smelter asked.

"You don't have any," Smithy stated. "All you did in Super Mario RPG was act like an ornament."
"Oh. Right."

"This meeting of the Sony council will come to order," Crash stated, standing atop the slightly bigger stage. "Our idea to get Richardson off our backs is to kill him, and send back to Earth a dummy that looks like Richardson and has a voice bank put into him that spouts out random statements to keep people from being suspicious until it's too late."

"But isn't that illegal?" Cloud asked.

"Oh, of course not," Tifa stated sarcastically. "OF COURSE IT IS, YOU SIMPLE, UNLOVING LUMMOX! DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?!?!"

"We're not supposed to do anything illegal," Squall stated before grabbing his nose that hurt whenever he spoke. He never could have guessed that Rinoa and Tifa could beat him up so painfully.

"Hey, what the chancellor doesn't know isn't gonna hurt him," Crash said.

"But that would be sinking down to the level he considers us to be at," Cloud pointed out. "Our objective should be to prove him otherwise."

"That's it!" Crash suddenly shouted.

"Oh, you figured out the coffee at 7^th heaven tastes like raw sewage?" Squall asked, before running away from Rinoa and Tifa at lightning fast speed.

"No, we'll invite Richardson to an elegant dinner at an expensive restaurant. We'll show him we have manners!"

"What about the people that don't have manners?" Asked Zell.

"We won't invite them," Crash said. "Oh, and sorry Zell. You can't come."

"Dang," Zell responded.

"This meeting of the Sega council will come to order," Sonic stated, standing atop the depressingly small stage. "Anybody got any ideas?"

There was an pause so depressingly long it created a burnt image on the screen. What screen, you ask? …um…you see this? See this stick? Fetch! Right. Anyway, there was a long pause. Then…

"I've got it!" Akira from Virtua Fighter stated. "Let's make a Virtua Fighter RPG! That's what the world needs!"

Sonic gave a strange look. "What sort of horrible, depressed demon could possess you in order to make you think for a time period greater than even a half a second that the statement you just made was in any way related to what we were talking about?"

"Or, we could write short essay on what the world would be like without video games…" Akira added.

"Much better!" Sonic said. "Oh, and remember all the rules of essays!"

"Of course!" Akira stated. "The first rule of essays is do not talk about essays. The second rule of essays is do not talk about essays. The third rule…"
"Shut up, now!" Sonic shouted, ending a strand of rules that would have gone on forever if he hadn't said what he had just said.

"This meeting of the PC council will come to order," Micro Man stated, standing atop the enormous stage. "We need a plan. Any ideas?"

A Goblin Lord from Magic: The Gathering stood up. "Who are you?"
Micro Man was a bit startled that he didn't know. "I…am Micro Man, from the computer game Micro Man. You can download it off the Internet."

"Why the hell are you in charge?"

"Me? Because all the levels in my game take place inside a computer. Besides, I was the only one who nominated myself."

"Oh. 'Cause I have an idea."

"Really? What is it?"
"We get all the guys from Math Blaster and The Learning Company to do a play showing the educational powers of video games. Can we go now, because I want to watch 'When CD's break' on Fox."

"Yes, yes, yes. Who doesn't?"

"Why won't you shut up about that?!" Another man screamed. He then proceeded to jump on the initial man, and beat him up.

Micro Man looked at his surroundings. "Meeting dismissed. Everybody get out of here."

John Richardson stared at his surroundings. "I hate this place. I want to leave as soon as possible. But I have to make sure that these idiots don't run away from this trial."

The two guards stood still. I mean, what else were they to do? Huh! Huh, punk! You wanna piece of me! Oh, sorry.

"Hello? Don't you agree with me!"

"Yes, sir!" The two guards said in succession. "We hate video games!"

"Good, that's what I want to hear." At that point, the Nintendo council came up.

"Hello, fellow senator!" Mario stated. "We're here to offer you a bribe to leave us all alone!"

"A bribe?" Richardson asked. "That's rather strange."

"Here's a list of everything we're giving you. Do you like it?"

Richardson looked at the list. He then laughed.

"What do you think?"

"This is a joke, right? I mean, this is the dumbest thing I've ever seen!"

"What's wrong with it?" Mario said, very concerned.

"Well, I'm not canceling a trial I've been waiting for ever since video games came to existence for some intimate moments with fictitious characters!"

"Yeah," Link started. "But you won't regret it! Zelda does some great things with…"

"Shut up, Link," Zelda kindly stated. "Before I have to kick you out of my house."

"And I also don't want 'merchandise' from fictitious characters either, no matter how long the list is."

"Gufahah!" Smithy grunted. "I knew Smelter was useless even for bribes."
"Nice try, fellas," Richardson stated. "You guys have made my day. Now get out of my sight."

"So, how do you like this place?" Crash asked Richardson, at the gourmet restaurant that has no name. For what reason? Please see the top of this fanfic.

"I suppose it's okay…" Richardson stated. "I suppose you guys are higher class than I thought." Just at that moment…

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The restaurant owner said. "Today, I'd like to welcome you to the first day of the completely new redesign of this restaurant!" With that, scantily clad women covered the walls, and heavy metal began playing.

"What the…" Squall looked around. "They must have drunk the coffee from 7^th heaven."

"Not now!" Rinoa shouted, pushing Squall out of his chair.

"I was naïve to think that you guys had half a brain," Richardson stated, walking out.

"Of all the times…" Crash moaned, his head now on the table. "Fifteen years this restaurant has been around…why did this happen now?"
"I'll tell you why," Cloud stated. "Because that would be too easy, and stupid."

"Stupid?"
"Yes, stupid. Do I need to sing a short poem to get it in your head? Ahem…

Stupid, stupid, stupid

Satisfied?"

Richardson now feared the next bribe. "What will these weird freaks come up with next?" As if to answer that question, the Sega council appeared, holding a piece of paper.

"Hello, Senator Richardson!" Sonic stated. "We present you with an essay that explains, in great detail, what the world would be like without video games. To summarize, it would be horrible. Please read it."

Richardson took the piece of paper, and began to read it aloud.

"Ahem…Without video games, the world would be Bogus." He looked up, his face showing he was not convinced. He then looked back down. "P.S.: The straws were the same size." He looked up again.

"You're obsessed!" A man shouted, before beating up the floor man again.

Richardson surveyed the crowd. "You guys are a time bomb waiting to happen. If I don't get a REAL bribe, one that actually interests me, you guys are going down!" With that, he stormed away.

"And now, for your viewing pleasure," Micro Man stated to the single-person audience of Richardson. "We present to you, The power of educational video games."

Richardson buried his face in his hand. He expected the worst. He was right to do that. Why, do you ask? Well, be patient, you morons! I'm not just gonna rush in and tell you!

All of a sudden, several character classes from Ultima got on stage and began doing ballet. Of course, they did it horribly, and fell over consistently in the process. One character walked up to another and said "Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?"

The character responded "No," and fell down, shaking and babbling.

"That guy knows nothing because he never played Math Blaster," The other character said. He then walked up to another character. He held up a book. "Can you read this?" He asked.

"Guuga waaga!" The man responded, and fell down too, babbling and shaking.

"That guy can't read because he never played Super Solvers."

Richardson then stood up. "That's enough! I'm sick of this! You guys are the worst bunch of bribers I've ever seen! The trial is tomorrow. Get ready for your shipment to Earth."

Micro Man looked around. "Well, I don't see what went wrong."

MARSHMALLOW SEVEN: THE MOCK TRIAL

The left side of the court contained the major representatives of video games. Crash, Mario, Sonic, Cloud…people like that. The right side contained-can you guess? Humans on Richardson's side? No, beavers. OF COURSE HUMANS!!! Judge Judy stepped up.

"Right, let's get this trial over with," She started. "Okay, humans. Give reason."

"Your honor," Richardson began. "Video games are the cause of all the Earth's troubles. I will start with little Billy."
"Objective! Irrelevant!" Cloud shouted.

"Shut up!" Judge Judy shouted. "Continue."

A young boy around the age of five came in to the courtroom. "Now, little Billy," Richardson began. "How violent were you before you played video games?"

Little Billy represented a very small amount with his thumb and pointing finger. "This much."

"And how violent were you after you played video games?"

Little Billy lifted his hands up and held them as far apart as possible. "This much."

"Thank you for your time, little Billy."

"Oh, how cute," Judge Judy stated.

"Oh, dear god!" Butz screamed from the back. "That has no meaning, relevance, or truth in it whatsoever!"

"Shut up!" Judge Judy shouted. "Continue."

"My next exhibit is the Columbine shooting."

Everyone became quiet. "It is very simple. We all know that the killers were obsessed with Doom. Hence, the reason for their behavior. I rest my case."

"Now wait just a minute!" Cloud said, very concerned. "There was racism, teasing, and the urge to be famous! Are you saying all those things had nothing to do with it?"

"I said I rest my case," Richardson replied.

"Alright, video games. Your turn."

"Your honor," Mario began. "Since day one-"

"Well, that's all the time we have left. Tune in next-"

"Wait a minute! I didn't even-"

"That's all the time we have left," She said coldly. "Tune-"

"WE DEMAND TO BE HEARD!!!" Squall screamed at the top of his lungs, standing up. "Now, to you people, this may be a mockery of justice. But to us, this is the most important day of all of our lives! Our very future depended on the outcome of this trial, and you're just pushing it off as if it means nothing! Well, it does! Your honor, it is clear this court is not capable of handling this crime maturely."

"Oh, like your court is?" Richardson commented. "I would probably face the same prejudice there."

"That's why we're appealing to…dadadada! The Universal Court!"

"The what? Is that some sort of joke?"

"The Universal Court is a court in the center of the universe that solves disputes between planets or dimensions."

"How come I've never heard of this 'universal court?'"

Why hasn't he heard of this court? What will become of little Billy's operation? And just what does Judge Judy have installed for our heroes? Tune in next week: on Nightrider!

One week later…

And now, the moment you've been waiting for!

"Because you're an idiot."

Richardson's mouth opened, but said nothing at first. "An idiot?"

"The human race would abuse the power, and would just lose it anyway. The universal court has ways of measuring truth always, and the one who deserves to win always wins. But it is only for the greatest disputes; for solving the greatest crimes; for besting the greatest enemies."

HAHAHA! Now you see where the title comes from! Oh wait…no, you already knew…you saw that up on marshmallow two. Oh, well. Either way.

"And now, Richardson," Squall said, more confident than ever. "I say one thing to you…YOU have one week to prepare. I suggest you get some real material. We sure will."

"Oh, Squall!" Quistis shouted. "You make me so excited! If you know what I mean…hehehe."

"The pain killers still haven't worn off?" Squall asked Irvine.

"No, I think the Backstreet Boys may be drugging her on a regular daily basis."

"What? The Back-"

"Don't ask. It's a long story, starting with a long series of affairs, and ending with a poem.

The black wind screams

With you, Squall.

Squall looked around. "I am officially, one hundred percent clueless."

"Never mind. We need to prepare for the real trial."

MARSHMALLOW EIGHT: THE FINAL STEP

The next day, there was a meeting at the Federation of Video Games.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The Chancellor began. "Today marks the first day of the final step (eh, eh, eh? See, see, see? You don't…aw) of preparation for the biggest event in video game history. My fellow characters, the only way we can come up victorious in this trial is to ally together. We can no longer be consumed by our petty differences. We must work together to overcome the greatest enemy (hahaha, again!) of video games. The best way to defeat an enemy is with words. So, let's get going with polls, witnesses, surveys, and information! Go, go, go!"

With that everybody scattered and left the building. Except for two people.

"Yes?" The chancellor asked. "What do you want?"
The first person stood up. "The straws were the same size." Just at that moment, a man came running back in. "No, they were not!" And they began fighting. After five minutes (that was a totally random number; they could have been in there till the end of time for all I care), the left. There was one person left. His name was Squall.

"Squall?" The chancellor asked. "What are you doing in here?"

"Wasting time," he responded. "Oh, and I have three questions."
"Really? And what would those be?"

"Number one: Who are you, exactly? You're not from any game, and your identity is a mystery to everybody."

"I am simply an entity created to lead."

"Right…CORNY! DUMB! WEAK ANSWER ALERT! Number two: Are you scared? I am…partially because I kicked the map in the creek."

"Oh, Squall. You must be brave. You must remember that the fate of the world rests in all video game characters, not just you. What's question three?"

Squall looked down, then up again. "Doesn't the coffee at 7^th heaven taste like raw sewage?"

MARSHMALLOW NINE: THE CLIMAX (AND BY SAYING THIS I MEAN NOTHING SEXUAL, YOU PERVERTS!!!

The Universal Courtroom was enormous. It had the capacity for approximately 10 billion people. This enabled every video game character ever to be there, while 2 billion humans that had decided to watch filled the rest of the gaps. Then there was John Richardson. At the top of a pillar so tall it made Andre the Giant look like a newborn baby (that means you couldn't see the top) was the "entity" (for lack of more reasonable sounding word: hey! Don't close the window!) that controlled the universal court.

"Today," the entity boomed. "is the trial John Richardson + video game haters VS. video games. I sure hope all the evidence is right here, or else whoever left it at home is !@#$ out of luck."

"It's all here," Richardson stated.

"All the info ya need is here!" Butz shouted from the background.

"The individual in the back," boomed the entity. "Is it Butz or Bartz?"

He looked up. "I really have no clue, your honor. Many people ask me that, and the truth is, I knew until those damn square executives decided to do a 'correct' translation, which people said stunk. BRIGHT BOY!"

"Now, for all those that know," The entity said, his voice slightly changed by a tint of confusion. "Trials here are different. They are faster, more to the point. Basically, something that couldn't exist in real life, but works well in a story where the writer is a complete moron who can't flesh out any ideas."

Then I came in, and shouted an obscenity at the entity, only to be struck by lightning and killed. Then, two people dragged me off.

"John Cheva Richardson," The entity said, even more confused now. "Your claim is that video games are destructive to society. Please explain."

"Well," Richardson began. "My first order of business is to bring up how many of the shooters in school killings worshipped the game Doom. My proof is right here." In his hand, he held several police reports. The entity looked at them, and nodded his head. "The main idea here, Mr. Richardson, is that you're saying every single one of these shootings wouldn't have happened if video games didn't exist."

Richardson gave a nervous twitch as the point he was trying to reach was put out in the open. It was just out of his reach. "Yes, your honor."

"Mr. Richardson, by stating this, you claim that bad parenting, racism, teasing, and/or alternative violent sources had a minimal effect on their decisions."

Richardson was very nervous now. "Um, yeah."

"Mr. Richardson, forgive me for sounding like I am taking sides, but that claim is preposterous. Do you agree? I can read the truth, Richardson."

Richardson looked around. "Fine, that is preposterous. But let me get to my second piece of evidence!" Richardson picked his hands out of his pockets and began waving them around like a preacher. "Video games destroy people's social lives! They cause people to become stunningly inactive and be anti-social! My wife, obsessed with video games, now no longer speaks to me! Neither does my son! What do you say to that, your honor?"

The entity gave a long, hearty sigh. "That is a good point, Mr. Richardson. Video games, do you have a defense?

From the middle of the audience of video games, Shigeru Miyamota stood up. "I will answer that question, your honor."

There were much gasps from the audience. "Our God is here!" Mario whispered. "We must worship him!"

"What are you talking about?" Link asked. "You punched him in the face!"

"You punch God in face?" DK asked. "You must die!"

"Please, not now!" Mario pleaded. "I have deeply regretted doing that for years now! In prison, you do a lot of thinking."

Shigeru walked to Richardson. "Before there were video games, there was TV. Before there was TV, there was movies. Before there was movies, well, that's a different case. But you are not targeting movies or TV, Mr. Richardson, so I will get off that subject. First off, video games do not 'cause' people to be anti-social. They are born with this disorder. Causes them to be inactive? Like I said, video games cash in on the inactivity that people would otherwise have from watching TV all day."

"Well, then TV's at fault!"

"Yes, Mr. Richardson, but this isn't about TV, is it? It's about video games. Mr. Richardson, do you have any true proof that your wife and son aren't talking to you strictly because of video games? Does it have anything to do with your personality? Are you in denial?"

Richardson opened his mouth, but said nothing. He looked at what he had caused, what was around him. He watched all his confidence, all his self-esteem, drop to zero. He fell to the ground, and said, while holding back tears, "I call off this case. No further questions."

"In that case," the entity boomed. "The ruling is that video games get to survive. Mr. Richardson will go back to being a senator, and maybe get some help. Case dismissed."

Everybody walked out to the teleporter in the back, and returned home. Everybody except the floor man and the other man.

"What are you two still doing here?"

"The straws were the same size!" The floor man stated.

"That phrase has lost all it's meaning," The other man stated.

"Now that we're in front of the entity, you must admit that the straws were the same size! Admit it!"

"Alright! They were the same size! But we hate you so much, because you're so annoying!"

The floor man was startled by the answer. "You…never told me…"

"Good lord, I'm glad that's over with!" The other man stated. "Let's get out of here."

MARSHMALLOW TEN: FINAL WORDS

I sure hope you enjoyed this fanfic. Because I wrote to please. Chances are, though, you didn't like it, and will send me hate mail telling me to find something good that I'm at and go do it. Well, if you plan on doing that, do something else. If you have constructive criticism (and by constructive criticism I mean that you've read the whole story, can tell me what's wrong in great detail, and not insult me), then send it to my E-mail address.

"Live long and perspire."

-Friend