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Luigi’s Wii Fit Studio

Author’s Note: Title is a play on Luigi’s Mansion. Enjoy the story and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Super Smash Bros. series.

Summary:

Armed with the Poltergust G-00, Luigi teams up with Wii Fit Trainer, the Ice Climbers, and Yuri Kozukata to solve the mystery of the haunted Wii Fit Studio.

The Wii Fit Studio was definitely haunted. That much was clear. Career fighters and sporadic recreation club goers had reported flickering lights, strange smells, and other paranormal hoo-ha recently, leading the tournament bigwigs to suspend all scheduled matches at the site and condemn the building until further notice.

Management had a real live ghost hunter on the job: Luigi. Many years ago, the Italian mysteriously won a mansion in a contest he never signed up for, and embarked on an occult emprise with Professor E. Gadd, the reclusive owner of Gadd Science, Incorporated.

For a case this perplexing, Luigi arranged a crack team of specialists to get to the bottom of the problem: himself, the seasoned ghoul-busting expert; Wii Fit Trainer, an obvious choice, as she operated and knew the ins and outs of the studio; the Ice Climbers, who of all the respondents, impressed him claiming they “Ain’t afraid of no ghosts”; and Yuri Kozukata, a spiritualist possessing a sixth sense.

If the supernatural activity was legitimate, they’d capture the spook. If not, they’d debunk the foofaraw as a hoax, and unmask the criminals responsible for the sick prank.

All they were missing is a van to take them place to place on their hijinks. And perhaps a dog with an appetite who talks. One not necessarily great at solving mysteries, but whose combination of slapstick and dumb luck would frequently result in the embarrassing capture of the bad guy by zany circumstance in the end.

Foxes and wolves are canines, but neither dog-looking enough in a domestic sense nor as marketable, leaving Fox McCloud and Wolf O’Donnell out.

Lucario was also canid, but didn’t speak words the regular way; for a Pokémon, not even his name.

Isabelle was right for the role. She was a dog capable of speech, except sadly, for one reason or another, was completely silent during Smash.

Duck Hunt Dog had the suitably goofy look Luigi might’ve been going for, yet didn’t talk.

The leader of the gang could’ve plumbed the extended cast of NPCs and spirits for a more satisfactory candidate, but they were short on time. If they didn’t do something about this situation soon, the organizers would rubber-stamp the location a lost cause and Wii Fit Studio would go the way of some of the tournament’s more unfortunate retired arenas.

Luigi was nostalgic for Mushroom Kingdom II and Poké Floats. The logs rolling down the waterfalls and Birdo’s egg shots in the case of the first, and Onix’s flyby, Chikorita’s leaf, Wooper’s gills, Lickitung’s lengthening tongue, and the Squirtle balloon’s sudden popup from the bottom of the stage in the case of the second.

Meanwhile, the Ice Climbers were nostalgic for match-ups on their home turf of Icicle Mountain. Sure, the narrowed blast lines and ease of a KO (both deliberate and accidental) made for a dangerous battle, but that was part of the challenge and fun!

Currently, the object of the team’s investigation was Exhibit A, an ebullient, goopy pile of yellowish green ectoplasm seeping along the wheels of the cycles Wii Fit Trainer lent during spin classes.

“Let’s get a good stretch.”

“Thank you, but you’re not helping, W.T.,” Nana reprimanded her able-bodied associate. She tapped the EMF meter in her hand. “Is this thing on?”

“Whoever this ghostie is, he needs a tissue.” Popo pinched his nose in spite of the substance being odourless. “That’s the nastiest booger this side of the Antarctic!”

“I’m not reading any unusual electrical interference off this gunk. It’s probably just someone’s mouldy ole lunch.”

Exhibit B provided no solider proof. Six yoga mats impossibly made it onto the ceiling between the adult and children’s day courses, where they resided since, depriving gym members their use.

New meaning to the inspirational bumper “The sky’s the limit.”

“Wires, I’m telling you! That’s how they did it!” The belayer in blue nodded conclusively.

His concomitant alpinist in pink disagreed. “I believe it’s an optical illusion. Trick mirrors.”

“Then how do you explain that?”

Introducing Exhibit C, a Wii Balance Board come to life. The panel jived, sambaing nearer.

Nana and Popo dumped their Boo Radars and fearfully embraced. “EEEEEK!”

“When exerting yourself, remember to keep breathing.”

“Not helping!” Nana repeated. The Ice Climbers had unquestionably lied on their resumes.

W.T. stretched upward, condensing solar energy into a ball, then touched her toes to hurl it at the demon gaming accessory. “Salute the sun!”

Stunned, the Wii Balance Board fell over inanimate once more.

Yuri intuited a punitive force. “We’re not alone. I can sense it…”

Treadmill conveyor belts shifted into overdrive. Human silhouettes corporealized, indifferently doing calisthenics and mounting the exercise machines.

Wet, crimson darkness closed in.

“M-m-m-maybe it’s friendly!”                                                           

“I’ll shoot.” Yuri aimed her Camera Obscura. “You catch.”

Luigi gestured OK. “Okey-dokey!”

Demarcating the umbral outline of the apparition in her viewfinder lens, the descendant of Hikami shrine maidens snapped photographs in frantic succession, her finger not straying far from the shutter button.

Partially exposed by the netherworld-penetrating flash, the spectre recoiled.

“Here we gooooo!” Luigi revved the Poltergust G-00. A storming eddy sputtered forth the vacuum cleaner’s nozzle, sucking in the disoriented shade.

Opposing durance, the eidolon resisted and pulled free of the hose.

All the sporting equipment went dead, and with them evanesced the macabre phenomena, including the eerie elevation of the yoga mats, which struck the floor simultaneously.

“Is it gone?”

The exorcist of the Black Water shook her head. “It has not moved on.”

Popo felt a chill down the back of his neck.

The spirit of none other than Street Fighter’s Ryu snuck up behind him, shouting, “SHORYUKEN!”

“CHEESE and crackers!” 

Apparently regretful his attempt to contact the material plane scared the bejeebus out of them, the deceased martial arts master shrank in a corner.

“Ryu? Ryu’s the ghost?”

“Mamma Mia!”

“Wait…” Nana realized. “Wasn’t it Wii Fit Trainer who last sparred with Ryu?”

The four gumshoes turned to the fitness instructor skeptically.

She did not hide her surprise. “Time to move that body!”