A Paper in Vegas

-LAS VEGAS, FEBRURARY, DAYTIME-

Chaos was abound, much too soon after the mysterious appearance of Kamen Rider OOO. You’d think one wouldn’t cause too much trouble too soon after that.

Unfortunately, people were panicking on the streets yet again, staying well out of the way as a group of men in metal, robotic suits walked down the streets. They already destroyed some very fancy apartment complexes that were under construction before moving on to the next. The police weren’t going to touch them with a ten foot pole: if those men could destroy construction projects with one metallic fist, then the police would probably end up with bones crushed to dust. They preferred being alive and not dealing with Kobber-level threats, thank you very much. So their hopes were thrust upon the mysterious hero, whom, for some reason, they did not have on speed dial. They need to fix that, ASAP.

After about the 3^rd complex was demolished, their leader stood before the metal men, fist raised up high. It was easy to spot him, mostly because his metal suit stood out by having flames painted on the bodice, he was 8 feet tall, and his bald head shined the brightest in the sun amongst all of the bald men in his group.

“Listen up!” he said, voice deep and gravelly as he clenched his fist. “We have destroyed those dumb symbols of capitalism, those signs that show that the rich flaunt their riches and don’t even try to help the poor! After all, we know how the prices of those complexes will skyrocket once they’re complete!” The loud yells of affirmation from his fellow baldies was almost deafening. After waving them down and silencing them, he continued, “But we’re just getting started! The rich just love watching us struggle to pay for our things on minimum wage while they feast on caviar and wine every day! They force us to work, even if it means working terrible hours for terrible pay! And we’re not going to take it anymore! We, the Paradisers, are going to dish out the pain and misery they placed on us for years, ten-fold, and create a Utopia from our efforts!” With his fist still clenched, he rose it as high as he possibly could and boomed, “And I, Hammerhead, will lead us to that utopia!”

Hammerhead’s speech sparked roars of approval from his gang, loud enough to scare off birds relaxing on telephone lines and passersby thinking of taking pictures and plastering them all over Facebook. One man, built like a bull, raised his hand and asked, “What’s the plan then, Boss? Is it more than just blowing up apartments?”

Chuckling, Hammerhead grinned and responded with, “We’re going to blow up the apartment of the rich guy who made those apartments! Then we’re going to meet with the mayor and convince him to let the poor eat for free and live in free buildings! And if he doesn’t agree…” A scowl crossed his face as he punched a streetlight, toppling it over a bike rack and the sidewalk. “Then we’ll make him agree! Who’s with me?!?”

“YEAH!” the Paradisers said raising their fists up with their leader.

“Then let’s MARCH!”

And march on, they did, leaving large foot dents around the street and leaving one distraught bike owner to worry. There would be no Kobbers saving this rich person or the mayor, nor any Power Rangers or Kamen Riders. Their doom was assured.

…Or they would be, had the group not stopped at their leaders orders. Hammerhead was sweating bullets, turning to his fellow men and asking, “Does anybody have this rich guy’s address? Or the mayor’s?”

A bucked tooth man pulled out his phone and said, “No, boss! Let me go look it up on Google…”

For several minutes, the group bumbled around in the heat, sweating up a storm in their metal suits as they desperately tried to find these addresses on the internet. Turns out, it’s pretty hard to find any old address for someone without paying up, which Hammerhead was more than happy to grumble about and call it full blown extortion.  A small breeze was their only reprieve from the heat, although it brought with it a piece of paper, slapping one of the men in the face before slowly drifting down onto the ground to rest.

After another minute, one of the men raised his phone triumphantly and said “I found it! I think I know where it is!” He paused to rub his head, then said with a frown, “but they said that the mayor has an army of robots at his disposal. You think we can really convince him to help us? Even forcibly?”

Hammerhead snapped his head towards the recruit, looking like a bull ready to charge as he roared, “Robots aren’t a threat to us! We stole these suits for a reason: They’re powerful enough to take buildings down with a single strike! His robots are as good as scrap metal! You don’t need to worry about something like THAT! Now shut up and lead the way!”

“Y-yessir!”

They were about to head off when another hitch in their plan appeared. The paper that flew into one of their faces slipped in front of them before… standing up? It was hard to tell if it was a living thing or not, since they were looking at it from the front. The paper hopped up defiantly- was it defiantly? Hard to tell from the thin side- hopping and blocking the way wherever Hammerhead stepped.

One of his cronies yelled at the paper, “Hey, you! You’re not one of those Kobber types, are you? You’re as thin as a stick!”

“That’s because it’s a piece of paper, you dummy,” another crony snapped. “Just punch it and it should crumple up!”

“Yeah, just punch it!” piped another. “That’s what it gets for standing in the Paradisers’ way!”

The men got into a battle position until Hammerhead held a hand up. Looking at it from the side, it actually looked like a person! Red cap, bushy mustache, powerful legs… or would be power legs, if they weren’t paper. The paper man blinked, his paper-thin head tilting to the side as looked at Hammerhead with confusion.

No doubt about it: this paper was alive. Hammerhead panicked, thinking, “Damn it, one of those Kobber types are here! They always attract weirdos like this guy! He may look weak, but…” After a moment of deliberation, Hammerhead declared, “Hold on! Let me try to talk this guy down.” He ignored the whispers amongst his men as he turned towards the paper man and said, “Listen: We’re trying to solve the problem of inequality! So many people have to work for terrible pay and hardly get anything with it, while the rich get richer and don’t even care about our plight! Destroying their symbols of inequality and convincing the mayor to fix this is the only way to solve this issue! So you’ll let us through, won’t you?”

The paper man looked like he was speaking, but no words came out of his mouth. Hammerhead nodded along, then he froze. A vein appeared on his head, pulsing with anger.

“What?! You don’t think that’ll solve anything? Why not?!?”

More movement, no words. In fact, the paper man did two hops now, as if exaggerating a point.

“You think that I’m putting people in danger by destroying apartments and that I can’t solve this with violence?! How can you say that, when the rich takes advantage of us?!?”

As Hammerhead grew more furious with this mysterious paper, the Paradisers exchanged glances. Did the boss lose his marbles? They couldn’t hear a thing, although they could see all the veins on their boss’s head threatening to pop at any moment.

One more hop and a defensive stance from the paper was enough to make Hammerhead snap. “Fine!” he said, pointing at the paper man, “If you won’t get out of our way and won’t let us solve this inequality issue, you’re part of the problem!

GET HIM, GUYS!”

They would question why they didn’t just trample over him, but this was their boss they were talking about. He was angry enough without them being disobedient, and they really would like to go back home, alive, in time to watch VEW on TV tonight. After all, it was the VALENTINE’S DAY MASSACRE, and that means a helluva lot more Silence to enjoy! So when they attacked, they fired on all cylinders: metal fists flew towards the piece of paper and smashed into him, one after another after another. They wouldn’t stop firing, smoke bellowing from their suits as they launched more. After a good minute, they stopped, confident that their target was completely crumpled.

However, when the smoked cleared, they saw the paper man crouching, hat over his head, the fists laying all around him. He jumped back on his feet, looking none worse for the wear.

Which absolutely terrified the cronies. Paper should be a complete crumple by now! Blown to bits! Not standing there, super animated, and looking just fine and dandy! “Wh-who ARE you?!?” one of the Paradisers asked, shivering even though it was 75 degrees outside.

The paper man spoke, and the words they heard would be enough to make any small-time villain faint.

“You’re Mario? THE Mario? Like, the Mario Brothers, from Sintendo?!?”

Sintendo, one of the biggest game and toy companies in the world. Sintendo, who had their real live actors and fighters amongst the Kobbers. Sintendo, directly affiliated with the Kobbers.

Maybe not a Kobber, but close enough to one that some of the Paradisers took off like a rocket, screaming like terrified children, or maybe more like they were in a horror movie all on their own. Others were eager to join them, but one glare from Hammerhead told them that would be a horrible idea. So instead, with their confidence deflating like a balloon, they charged towards him like a bunch of football players at a home game.

Might be a problem for some people, but not Paper Mario. As they charged, he folded himself downwards. When they were about to hit him, he sprang up high, showcasing the trademark Ultra Jump as he soared up, then stomped on one Paradiser’s head. Any other kind of paper would crumple up and leave the guy unphased, but no: whatever kind of paper this Mario was made out of, it hit just as hard as Sarah belly flopping off a ten foot building. After knocking that poor man cold, Paper Mario sprang up again, bouncing off each man’s head in turn. Each man stopped to rub their poor, aching heads before the paper man whipped out a hammer and whacked them silly.

Never did anyone think that a simple paper hammer would hurt like a sack of bricks. These guys certainly didn’t!

Two of the Paradisers threw punches, knocking Paper Mario down on his feet. Seizing their chance, they fired a flurry of fists, pushing the paper being farther and farther back. Maybe this thing wasn’t so strong, after all! That was promptly proven wrong when Paper Mario spun in place and punched the fist, sending it back to sender. The mysterious words “SUPER GUARD!” appeared above his head before fading away. Before anyone could question it, Paper Mario was bouncing on their heads again, their faces meeting the pavement, their heads aching like no tomorrow.

Hammerhead’s fury had no bounds. His face was flush with red, veins pulsing, teeth clenched. This damn piece of paper made a fool out of his people. He beat them without beating a brow! He was still standing in HIS way!

You’d think someone who was worried about Kobbers would stop and think, “Hm, maybe I should retreat!” and run like the dickens. Anger, however, has its way of completely fucking up one’s rationality, leaving only that urge for vengeance.

“How DARE you, you piece of SCRAP!” Hammerhead roared with anger, clenching a fist and punching Paper Mario in the face. He cringed, and got another punch to the face for his troubles. “You’re getting in MY way, and you’ll PAY for it!”

Paper Mario folded his arms before he took something out of what looked like his pockets: A block. A big, yellow block, which said “COPY” on it. Hammerhead wasn’t sure what he was up to, but he prepared to charge in and finish this once and for all. He didn’t even care that Paper Mario just hit the block; it’s not like it was going to save him-

The block spawned 5 other copies of Paper Mario, all of which stacked together. Hammerhead didn’t care: he charged anyway, yelling as he tried to use his head to bash this piece of paper and teach him a lesson.

Well… His name was Hammerhead, but he really, really did not expect to get six hammers to the head in quick succession. ”GAH!” he cried out, holding his poor noggin and thanking god that he had such a thick skull. “Why, you-“ He threw out a left hook that was easily jumped over, Paper Mario and his copies taking advantage of it to score in enough jumps to get a 1up mushroom. “DAMN YOU!” His suit heated up, setting his fist ablaze as he punched a copy. He grinned as it went up in flames, the other Paper Marios falling back in surprise.

Hammerhead grinned. “Weak to fire, huh? Perfect chance to try out my new move! You’re as good as GONE!”

He began by spinning his arms in large circles slowly, gradually speeding up. Faster and faster, his arms went, until they were spinning so fast, they caught fire. His focus was solely on those copies, laughing as he pushed himself to the limit. “You’re THROUGH! TASTE THIS!” he said triumphantly as he went and charged once last time.

The arms hit them, burning each and every one into ashes. He laughed and laughed, slowing his arms down and allowing his suit to cool down after that sudden exertion. “I did it! I finished off those paper punks for good! Now nobody will stop me-“

Hammerhead felt something brush against his legs. He looked down and saw a tube of paper between his feet. It rolled back in front of them and unfurled itself, revealing himself as the real Paper Mario.

“H-HOW?!” Hammerhead stammered, anger replaced by fear, breaking into a cold sweat. “You couldn’t have survived that, I DESTROYED you!”

Paper Mario shook his head. Only then did Hammerhead understand.

“Y-you… rolled yourself up and let your copies take the hit…?”

Nod, nod.

“O-oh… Uhm…” Damn. He couldn’t use his arm twister attack so soon; his suit’s overheated. Paper Mario still had that weird Copy block, so he could make more of those copies. And even without them, each hit hurt so much. Was trying to get to the mayor and that rich jerk really worth it, if he had to get through this tough piece of paper to do it?

His heart said yes, but his legs? Oh, they said no. No, no, no, NO way was he going to stay here.

So Hammerhead, leader of the Paradisers, ran all the way back home, crying like a baby. “F-freaking Kobbers!” he said in between sobs. “Why do they always come and ruin plans like mine?!? I-I won’t do this ever again, I don’t want to get hurt more! WAAAH!”

Paper Mario was at least happy that no one else would get hurt today. Seeing that the fight was over, he hit the Copy block again. After all, it was time to drag these guys to the hospital and make sure they were okay. It was easier to make sure they didn’t get into trouble with doctors looking over them, after all!

He just hoped that the peace would last a little longer before he sprang into action again.