There is no VIP lounge at this tournament, so I've set up my own using paper towels, stop signs, garbage, and ass. I call it "The Mango." Some ground rules: 1. Mango is not invited, and if he shows up I will lose my shit. 2. Absolutely no combos or new tech. 3. NO FUCKING

hiding in the tournament bathroom right now googling “coolest pop offs of 2024 not racist not homophobic very cool but also somehow not racist”

I noticed a glint of sadness in Hbox's eyes. I imagined him as an actor trapped on a stage, forced to perform for an audience he grew weary of. “I'm here for you,” I wanted to say, but it was too late...Hbox had already begun his pop off, killing everyone in the first few rows.

Does anybody remember that early version of smash brothers where the only playable character was Softhands Randy and he'd come over to your house and you had to feed him alcohol or he'd put you in the closet again

Let the record show that most people in the venue thought it was actually VERY brave of me to cry on stage instead of playing out the last set

While you may not "LIKE" it, it is not technically illegal for me to tell my 9 year old opponent that selecting Ness is a federal crime, and that if he picks him he might as well "kiss his parents goodbye"

"You in there, little guy?" I ask my brain, which has been suspiciously absent for the last decade or so.

Getting really tired of people complaining that I never approach when I'm just trying to respect my opponent's boundaries

I don't mean to brag, but I nearly took a shower the other day and it felt AMAZING.

Getting pretty pissed off at mang0 for making me have all those sex dreams about him without my consent.

So tired of getting tech-shamed constantly. Just let me lie on the ground for a minute and let me think about what I've done.

"Get Good or Get Got," I whisper into Armada's ears for the third time today, tickling his tender sensibilities with a turn of phrase so psychologically devastating that he was practically forced to three stock me. And in my book, that's a win.

my therapist says i don’t need to be ashamed of my feelings, but when i tell her my feelings, she shakes her head and says "i don't like that one bit."

"Most people think my pop-offs are excessive," Hbox said, "but what they don’t realize is that most of them are barely detectable." "I guess we only notice the big ones, huh?” I said. Hbox began to walk away. "Oh, and buddy?” he said, turning back. "I'm popping off right now."

Was it unorthodox to release fire ants into the tournament hall to buy myself some time before grands? Yes. But was it illegal? They’re saying also yes.

"i'm worried that i might be a sociopath," i tell my therapist. "i'm not worried about that at all," she reassures me, "just as i'm not worried that the sun will rise in the East and set in the West tomorrow."

When did "time's up, fucko" become the canonical way Smashers say good luck before a set?

Sometimes I miss the early days of Smash, before the internet, when all we cared about was having fun and living in the moment. And then Old Man Jenkins would show up, pants soaked in piss, gnawing on a game cartridge like a stick of jerky and muttering something about Vietnam.

I met Hbox at a petting zoo. He was talking with one of the baby goats and struggling to hold back tears. I asked him, "are you doing okay, friend?" He shook his head solemnly. "Everyone forgets that goats are herd animals. We're not meant to be alone."

"Why do I always lose to the same player? Is he better than me?" I asked the master. He smiled. "No, my friend, he is not better or worse than you. He is simply your teacher."