Chapter Text
“ORDER UP!”
Luigi was starting to wonder why he agreed to this.
There he was, in a stuffy disguise, bussing tables during a rush. At least the customers were nice. He stared at an order ticket that was literally for three baguettes and nothing else, presumably from the pair of ghosts in the hotel shops. He sighed, bringing the ticket to the kitchen and hoping his handwriting was still legible at this point. The plumber set the last remaining plates he was carrying down on a table before letting out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t done yet but it was nice to have a couple of seconds to get his cool back. And, after a deep breath or two, he was back in action, taking orders like a champ. Luigi couldn’t help but be proud of himself, there weren’t many other waiters on staff, after all.
The shift was over soon enough, yet, it felt like it’d been forever and an instant all at once. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead, sighing in relief; finally, he was done. He pulled out his phone, checking the groupchat.
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ULTRATOURNAMENTMASTER: Nono you don’t understand I don’t LIKE travelfree I just think- oh hey Luigi’s on
Stan Tourmaline: Hi gusy!
Stan Tourmaline: Guys*
ULTRATOURNAMENTMASTER: gusy
Mom Time: gusy
Stan Tourmaline: IM DOING MY BEST OK
Stan Tourmaline: Anyways! How are you guys?
Mom Time: I’m pretty good! Bored tho
Mom Time: You?
Stan Tourmaline: Tired but good! Just finished doing favors for Soulfflé so I should get the button now hopefully
Mom Time: Alright!! Good luck!
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Luigi pocketed his phone, a smile on his face. Man, these people were fun to talk to. He quietly tapped his foot on the ground, looking around the mezzanine. Soulfflé exited the kitchen, wordlessly handing Luigi the elevator button before leaving.
Well, that was underwhelming. Luigi twirled the button around in his hands, smiling softly. He pocketed the thing before going to find Steward.
Steward, meanwhile, was having the time of his afterlife. He had a cue stick in hand and a smug look on his face, “Any other competitors, or am I too good for you guys to beat?” Another Oozer raised their hand, “Look’s like we’ve still got takers. Grab a stick and get over here.” The Oozer did just that, grinning eagerly. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before, what’s your name?”
“Molly! You’re Steward, right?”
The bellhop nodded, “That’s my name, don’t wear it out. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Molly!” Molly shook his hand, and after a bit of discussion, the game had begun.
Steward was good, really good. Molly couldn’t tell if his shots were impulsive or if he was just calculating them that fast. Meanwhile, Molly’s shots were slow, she thought hard about every single one. “Say, Steward! How’d you get so good at this?”
“Learned from my cousin.” Steward replied nonchalantly, firing another shot. “He was a really great guy, unlike everyone else in my family.” He laughed a bit.
“Huh, neat! Who’s your cousin?”
Another nonchalant shot and Steward had won the game. “Slim Bankshot.”
Molly almost dropped her cue stick, fumbling with it for a bit before regaining her composure. “Hold on, you’re telling me the Slim Bankshot is your cousin?!”
“Mhm! One of the best people I knew.” He responded, “Now, solids or stripes?” Molly picked stripes, and the game began. … Well, it almost did.
Luigi hesitantly pressed the door to the rec room open, hoping Steward would be there. He’d been looking for the bellhop for quite some time now. “Hello? Is anyone…” Steward was certainly there, but unfortunately, so were three Oozers, who were staring right at him. Luigi chuckled nervously, “Am I interrupting something..?” He was met with an eight-ball to the face. Apparently, the answer was yes.
Letting out a startled cry, Luigi scrambled to cover his face as more billiard balls were thrown at him. He fumbled for a bit, finally stumbling out the door and falling flat on his back (after oh-so-graciously running into it a few times.). Luigi staggered to his feet, gingerly touching his face. He was almost certain that eight-ball to the face would mean a black eye later on. Ouch. Part of him wanted to curl up and cry, but he had to keep going, he had to. Mario was counting on him, after all.
Luigi began making his way toward the elevator, struggling to keep his eyes open. He was so, so tired, but he couldn’t rest. Not while Mario was still trapped. He would wait for Steward in the elevator. Seemed a good plan, so he waited. Not for long, fortunately. Steward was peeking his head through the elevator soon enough. “Ah, there you are, sir! Shall we get out of here?” Luigi nodded.
“We should go.” He paused, “Huh. It feels like nothing happened on this floor. I mean, I know for sure that’s not true, but it all just blurred by.”
Steward hazarded a guess, “Maybe you were on autopilot? I mean, when I get stressed, I tune everything out sometimes, sir.”
Luigi nodded, “That could be it. You don’t have to call me sir, by the way.”
“...I don’t?”
“Yeah! You can just use my name if you’d like!”
“Oh- I-“ Steward stammered, “My apologies.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Luigi smiled. “It’s really not a big deal, to tell you the truth. I understand where you’re coming from, anyway.”
“Ah, well then.” Another pause. “... Thank you, Luigi.”