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Chapter Text

Ignorance is a Bliss 

Chapter Text

“Oh boy oh boy, Mario can’t feel his Pingas!”

Mario had no idea how long he had been walking. Seven hours, maybe more?! Or less, who knows? When he left the house it was the late afternoon, but now sunlight was breaking through, illuminating the once dark sky. The constant strides and exercise was getting to him, and worse still, he had no idea where he was even going!

Wait, where is Mario going?

Perhaps he should have put more thought into his actions and calm down before storming off to the Showgrounds. Maybe he could have prevented himself from blowing up in front of the whole Crew. ‘They probably hate-a me right now.’ He bitterly thought to himself, remembering all those mean words he said to them.

But did he regret saying those words, did he want to go back to them and beg for forgiveness instead of running away?

“. . . . .”

“Nah!” Mario exclaimed, his jaw elongated as his moustache grew three times its size, signifying his dim-witted ignorance. A face for all to laugh at. But there was no audience. Yeah, he would rather eat a lifetime supply of vegan spaghetti than go back to SMG4 or the Crew! Their smug faces would drive him cucu crazy!

But regardless, he continued on with his trek. Aimlessly wandering around the fields until he figured out where he was going. “Where is Mario going?” He pondered to himself, still lost on where he was travelling to. “Maybe Mario will figure-a out later.” He concluded, relying on discovering his location in due time.

So he continued his astrayed path; through the falling snow filled lands of World 5, to the sickeningly pastel caverns of Candy Land. Mario still felt lost, not sure on where his aimless path would take him.

Eventually, the Petite Plumber found himself in a canyon, with the hot sun blaring down upon him. The rocky ground was dry, saturated orange and brown spread through the cracked infested gulch. While not patricianly interest, there was something that caught his bored eyes, something completely random to find here of all places.

Residing by a dry cliffside, there stood an object. ‘It wasn’t a rock!’ Mario concluded, though there really wasn’t any need for that confirmation. It was relatively large for him, reaching up to his waist in height.

It was a round cauldron, composed in ebony steel, so it was very noticeable in the barren warm hue of rocks. It didn’t look rusted, surprisingly, but it was quite the pleasant surprise to see an object like this in the canyon.

So naturally, Mario decided he should get inside the Cauldron and see what happens from there!

Without a second thought, the excited moustached Italian leaped up in the air, a loud boom accompanied his “Wahoo!” As he soared up a couple of feet in the air, he landed to where the Cauldron was still standing. A suctioning sound was heard, as the bottom half of Mario’s body was inside the Cauldron. He grinned from ear to ear, satisfied with that fleeting moment of childish fun.

It was however, a fleeting moment. He tried to lift himself off the Cauldron, but his body wouldn’t budge. His eyes widen in panic. He tried again, and again. Desperately trying to pry himself of this black pot he put himself in! But he wouldn’t move from his position.

He was stuck!

Soon, his panic transitioned to frustration, as he tried again with more force. Hopping around from his own iron coated prison to free himself. When that didn’t work, his stubbornness made him try again. But within this fit of failed attempts, Mario had yet to realise that he was hopping closer to the edge of the cliffside.

That was when Mario felt his body leaning back all of a sudden. Confused, he turned over to his back and his eyes bulged out of his skull in fear. He was dangling off the cliff’s edge!

“No no no!” He stammered, as he franticly flapped his arms around. A desperate attempt to keep his balance, as he stared down at the gulch’s cavern below, dreadful of the fall. As he thought this, he realised that he was learner closer and closer to the other side! He flapped his arms harder and faster, screaming out his final words!

“Son of a fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-“

The Red Capped Man now found himself falling. The wind violently rushing past him as he flailed about within his potted coffin!But the anxiety and immanent fear of the fall wasn’t enough, as his head was violently bashed against one of the rocks engrained on the mountain’s base.

“Ooof!”

He lost track of how much many rocks he crashed into, how many bones he may have broken. But his tumble had come to its conclusion, when his face met the cracked surface of sandstone with a thunderous splat. Groaning as he pried his face off the ground, Mario shook his head out of instinct, he thinks he’s still disoriented from that fall. “Well, at-a least it-a all over!“ He optimistically noted.

Then his face reunited with the ground. Contributed by another Mario crashing into him, only to disappear from once it came.

“Nevermind.” He grumbled from that gag. He tried to lift himself from the ground, but it proved to be more difficult than one would expect. Eventually, he pushed his arms up and as he literally sprung up like a bobblehead.

Once back up, Mario looked down to see his current predicament. He was still stuck in the Cauldron from the waist down! He tried to jump off, but he felt no function within his legs or pelvis. He yet again tried to lift his pelvis from his iron cladded coffin. but once again, the results remained fruitless as ever.

As this slowly processed through Mario's admittedly abnormal mind, the reaction to this predicament was the usual response to a problem.

Loud screeching and flailing about like headless chickens!

Like a child throwing a tantrum, Mario angrily thrashed around in an erratic fit, his bottom half suspended of movement. He even resorted to biting the Cauldron, just anything to break free from this potted prison!

“There is no feeling more frightening than being stuck.”

This snapped Mario out of his stupor, snapping his head to all directions. “Hmmmm?” He turned to the other direction.

“If your parents found your search history, like mine did. Or you find yourself cramped with homework that’ll be due the very next day.”

This voice was very calm, but at the same time obnoxious. It was familiar too. “Who said that?!” He demanded, searching for this familiar voice within the barren canyon.

“Being stuck is much more daunting than being lost. If you’re not ready for that, like you already had a bad day.”

Alright, now Mario had definitely heard this voice before! It sounded like it belonged to a serious person, but for some reason all he wanted to do was punch them in the face!.....

.......... wait. Was that-!

“Then what you’re about to do might be too muc-“

“SMG4?” Mario questioningly demanded. There was a bile that rested on Mario’s tongue when he said that name, he wasn’t exactly keen on listening to the Meme Guardian. His grudges were still there, and that encounter was still fresh in Mario’s memory.

The voice was silent for a good long while, as if it was panicking from its disembodiment. “U-uh, n-n-no! This is not SMG4, I am Luke Lerdwichagul, a humble disembodied narrator for this journey!” Mario raised his eyebrow, not completely convinced by this statement.

“U-uh,” ‘Luke’ stuttered out, “I know I sound like SMG4, but trust me! We are totally different people, yeah!”

*Crickets*

That was a poor attempt of an excuse. It was clear that this ‘Luke’ was hiding something, and his subtly was as smooth as a used car salesman. Nobody would believe this bold faced lie-

“Okie Dokie!” Mario said, raising a thumbs up in the air, probably at ‘Luke.’ “So, Luke!” The Petite Plumber glanced up to the sky. “What-a Mario gonna do to get out-a here?” He asked, gesturing to the canyon and the Cauldron.

“Well,” ‘Luke cleared his non existent throat, “in order to escape this chasm. To persevere against the eternal labor. One must seek to acquire the means to get there. To seize the instruments from their environment and mold them to climb against the impossible odds ahead of them.”

Mario stared at the sky, his brain feeling like it was flattened as he drooled in dumbfound bewilderment. “The fuk?”

Seeing that his phonetic spiel was not registered in the slightest by the retarded moustached man, ‘Luke’ sighed. “Just get something to climb the mountain.” He simplified.

“Oh Yeah!” Now that was something Mario could understand! ‘But what to use?’ He wondered, scratching his chin as he pondered on what he could acquire to help him here.

"Hmmm..." He began to think, rubbing his own bulbous chin while his eyes squinted in concentration.

". . . . ."

Suddenly, Mario eyes flashed with a surge of brilliance. “I got it!” He exclaimed, as he started to rummage inside his overalls, in search of a particular item. Grinning, he pulled out his intended item; which by all standards of physics, for it to be stashed in his person was borderline insane and completely impossible.

For what Mario had acquired from his arsenal was…….!

The Ultra Hammer!

“I HAVE THE POWER!!!” Mario screamed out loud, raising his acquired instrument over his head in a triumphant stance, despite his lower half being stuck to an iron pot. The abrupt strike of lighting behind him only encapsulated the moment.

“..... close enough.” The disembodied ‘Luke’ admitted, giving as much leniency as he could. “Now you best be on your way. The path to breaking free from your potted prison is just right at the top of that mountain.”

“No Problem!” Mario gave a thumbs up. Even though this was his first time, he seemed to have gotten the gist on how to move. Moving the hammer in quick, circular motions, creating momentum for himself to row across the ground. Mario will soon realise that was the easy part.

『Eventually』

Now, you may be wondering why Mario hanging by a tree. Gripping the shaft of his hammer, the head hooked against the branches. The Cauldron his lower torso has been confined into was threatening to pull Mario down due to it’s density.

It was a miracle that despite how unhealthy Mario seems to be, he was surpisingly dexterous; swinging himself above the tree like Donkey’s Bitch Ass. And just like clockwork, his sexy body was being flung upwards, narrowly landing on top of a flat surface.

“YEE-ESH!!!” He cheered, finally he had passed this part of the hike! He felt that the rest of this adventure should be a breeze, since he finally passed the hardest obstacle thus far! With newfound vigor, Mario rowed his hammer again, hopping across the slab of rocks that awaited him from above. Luckily, Mario had gotten use to facing these challenges, merely hopping and scaling them one by one. He was pretty confident in himself.

Until.....

In a sudden, heart-stopping moment, Mario’s hammer catches an edge awkwardly. The momentum sends him tumbling back down. And Mario? He could only watch. Watch as he plummeted down the mountainside, bouncing off the slabs he had so easily crossed, and paled in horror, as his Cauldron encased body flung pass the tree, indignantly landing back to the ground he had started in. The clang of metal and the harsh sound of his descent are almost deafening.

All of Mario’s progress has been tossed away, like a paper bag in the wind.

“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realise how close they were to success when they gave up. - Thomas Edison” The narrator ‘Luke’ chimed in, feeling it necessary to offer inspirational material to the silent Plumber.

Silence befell the distraught man for a good solid few moments…..

Mario’s reaction is immediate and explosive. His eyes widen with shock and disbelief, the reality of his lost progress hitting him like a ton of Bullet Bills. With a cry of frustration, he throws his Ultra Hammer into the air, watching as it clatters loudly against the rocks. His face contorts into a mix of rage and despair, clouded by a storm of childish anger.

In a fit of rage, Mario begins to swing the Ultra Hammer wildly, smashing into the nearby obstacles with a series of deafening clangs. He flails erratically within his iron casing. The small space amplifying every movement into a dramatic display of frustration.

The sound of his tantrum echoes through the level—the sharp, violent clang of metal meeting stone, the frustrated yells and curses in Italian. He figured his face is flushing red, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. He slams the hammer down one final time, the noise resonating through the otherwise silent level.

Eventually, Mario collapses back into the cauldron, panting heavily. He took a deep breath, though he was far from composed, his facial features still twitching from barely contained rage. “Let’s try it again!” He snarled, blanketed by a poor man’s imitation of optimism.

Finally, after some time, Mario was able to pass that section of the mountain, his composure seemed to give way to wayward confidence. It was a nice change in pace, however, it would prove not to be that easy.

He looked up to see his new obstacle to pass; a large carved pathway resembling a tunnel in between the mountaintop above him. The tunnel is a narrow, treacherous passage, lined with precariously balanced lamps and ledges. The light from the lamps casts eerie shadows, adding a sense of foreboding to the challenge ahead.

“Mama Mia…..!” He groaned, already dreading the challenge up ahead for him. Sucking is breath and pride, Mario swings his hammer with as much practiced precision as he could, inching his way forward through the tight space. The hammer clangs against the metal of the lamps, the sound echoing through the tunnel with a harsh, relentless rhythm.

His face was pure red, deeply and vigorously concentrated on the path ahead. But despite his best efforts, Mario struggles with the tricky maneuvering required to navigate through the narrow passage. Each swing fueling his frustration, his anxiety palpable as the hammer connects with the lamps.

His moustached face flushes with irritation, his flavor saver furrowing as he tries to maintain balance. But that’s easier said than done when you have a Cauldron stuck to your hips! With a final, desperate swing, Mario overestimates his reach. He flustering irritation is quickly replaced pale dread, as the hammer catches the edge of a lamp, sending him flailing wildly.

For a brief moment, time seems to have slow to a crawl. He tumbles backward, his progress undone in a cascade of falling lamps and shattered hopes. The familiar thud of hitting the ground echoes as he lands back at the start of the tunnel. The Cauldron had dampened his fall, meaning he wasn’t hurt by the tumbling down. But Mario’s pride and spirit weren’t so easily protected.

“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. - Mark Twain.” The disembodied narrator, ‘Luke’, chimed in, before returning to it’s observatory silence.

Mario felt an erratic twitch on his eye, blood was starting to boil within his head.

He took a deep breath, trying to soothe his nerves. “It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine! It doesn’t bother me, it doesn’t bother me… It bothers me, it bothers me a lot!”

Bashing his own head in, Mario’s rage ignores the pain of his head being flattened like a pancake. “I hate this game!” He screamed out, shaking his fist in the air, as if expecting a response from God himself. But there was no God, just an annoying narrator he doesn’t have the luxury to Arial Smash!

『Later』

A calm and serene atmosphere pervaded the barren canyon of the mountain. The sun, vivid and mellow, drifted at the highest point of the skies, illuminating it’s bright warmth across the gulch. The mountain remained as it was, undeterred by the nature around it’s presence.

CRACK!!!

A large, tubular head of a hammer swung and struck a cliffside from below it’s edge. Wedging it’s wide frame in between the rocks. Suddenly, a blur flew from the mountainside, leaping pass terrains of rock and stone, before landing by a rock slide with a slight wobble. The blur in question was wheezing his lungs out, exhausted from the last attempt in launching himself over to this cliffside.

The last twenty times, to be exact.

By this point, Mario had been able to calm down from his prior tantrum, making slow and painful progress getting up this mountain! But it was progress regardless.

A gradual dulling of senses started to creep within Mario’s head, his head twitching ever so slightly, as he gritted his teeth. That frustration was emerging again. And it hadn’t even been a minute!

The landscape around him is a daunting mix of steep drops and jagged rocks, the path forward obscured by a particularly treacherous overhang. Mario groaned with dread, realising he has to think about this one. Gripping his hammer tightly, eyes narrowed in intense concentration. He swings the hammer with caution and determination, trying to figure out a way around the cliff.

He attempts to maneuver around the cliff, his hammer slips and catches on the edge of a rock. So far, his strategising wasn’t rewarded. Only inviting more turmoil.

Mama Mia…..” Mario pondered, staring at his hammer while scratching his chin deep in thought. He had an idea though. He positioned the hammer below in a reverse grip, the head facing the ground. Then, he pushed it down and slammed the head with the ground. And much to Mario’s surprise, the collision was enough to bring him up a few feet, before descending back down, the Cauldron mitigating any fall damage.

His eyes widen with this discovery, he can used the Ultra Hammer like a pogo stick! And that gave him an idea!

“Okay okay, here we go…” Mario slapped his head a few time, bracing himself for what’s to come. Grabbing the Ultra Hammer in front of him, Mario readied himself; pushing his grip down to lift himself up by a few feet, the Cauldron’s weight felt natural combined with his own. “Here we go, and…!”

“WAHOO!!!!”

Mario is launched up in the air, propelled by the kinetic energy made by his downward thrust. Rocketing above the mountainside! The rushing wind embraced his take off, stretching his face as his skin flapped like jelly. Mario gave a light chuckle as he flew higher into the air, the rush was exhilarating!

Eventually, his ascension slowed down to a crawl. Mario felt gravity take hold of his body, ready to drag him back down. Quickly, he swung his hammer at the nearest ledge on the mountain face. The hammer’s neck scraped across the rough stone surface, only amplifying Mario’s anxiety, as he prayed that he won’t fall again!

After a long, grueling moment of pendulous suspense, Mario decided he was in the clear. Gripping his hammer tightly, he finally flung himself upwards to the ledge, the Cauldron slid across the stone surface as he screeched in panic. The screaming began to simmer down as his eyes fluttered open, now comprehending what just happened.

Mario had reached the top of the Mountain!

He would leap up in joy for this accomplishment, but his legs were still confined within his ebony prison. But that was about to change, because ‘Luke’ said that the way out was at the very top of the mountain, where he currently is right now! Right in front of him stood a cave, a jagged entrance carved within the mountain’s surface, the sun piercing through the cavern’s mouth, teasing Mario for what’s inside.

Well Mario isn’t one for teasing, plus he really wants to get out of this Cauldron. So without any further interruptions, he made his way inside the cave, rowing his body across the stone surface. It was anticipating, almost suspenseful for what resides inside this cavern. An eager grin was placed across Mario’s features, as he continued to make quick circular swings with the Ultra Hammer, picking up the pace.

And what awaited the Red Capped Italian, after enduring the endless labor of hiking this treacherous slab of stone with no legs and a hammer as a walking stick? What prize did the disembodied narrator allude to that motivated the Plumber into traversing this hellish climb?

..... spaghetti. It was a just plate of spaghetti.

Now, this is usually the part where Mario strips himself bare and proceeds to make love with the glorious pasta dish! But no, this only stunned the Italian to his core. All of that struggle….. all of that endurance..... for this?

“Well? Go on then.” The narrator had returned to ‘applaud’ Mario’s victory. “Enjoy your prize!" But he didn’t move, he didn’t even respond. And not because of the restricted movement from his iron cladded coffin, but it didn’t feel right.

‘Luke’s’ voice continued to spur on with quips and jeers for Mario to devour the plate right in front of him. “Mario~” The voice pestered on, “Come and get-a your spaghetti!~” And now he was taunting him, mimicking his Italian diction as an additional spit in the face!

A gradual dulling of senses started to creep within Mario’s head, his head twitching ever so slightly, as he gritted his teeth. That frustration was emerging again.

“Mario! It’s-a spaghetti time!~” The narrator continued, provoking the Plumber by butchering his own accent!

“Come on Mario.” Where was this voice coming from?! He could hear it speaking into his ear! This had to be in Mario’s head! Right?! Like, there’s no way these words are from the narrator of all peopl-

“Do something stupid.”

CRACK!!!

Remember when something cracked within Mario when confronting SMG4? Well, now it has shattered! Like a glass holding droplets of water, it could only hold so much pressure until the vessel cracks! He didn’t know why or how, but a voice that resembled SMG4 uttering those words broke the camel's back.

And with a furious cry, Mario lunged towards the offending dish with rage fueled intent!

Even when he fell face first to the ground, he clawed his way forward, restrictive Cauldron be damned! Once again, anger was fuelling his body, as he shambled his way towards the Spaghetti dish! And with ferocious roar, he rocketed his fist down at the plate! The cavern shook from the impact, as pasta sauce splattered across his face.

Mario had broken a Cardinal Rule.

But it didn’t stop there! His raged fueled adrenaline would not be quelled by a measly punch, even if at the expense of his one true love! He sent another punch at the dish, this time he fractured the plate into pieces. Then another punch. Then another, another and another!

Soon, Mario had unleashed a onslaught of blows at the brutalised Spaghetti dish.

“MARIO IS NOT STUPID!!!” He screamed in fury, too preoccupied to notice the ever growing cracks forming above him. “YOUR THE ONE WHO IS STUPID!!!” The once gourmet spaghetti dish now left in ruins. Fragments of ceramic shards barely serving mashed pasta emulating vomit! The sauce had splattered all over, it was already dead.

But Mario was still mad.

He raised his arms high above his head, ready to deal the final blow. Pebbles began to rain down from the ceiling, dust seeping from the fractures above his head. “YOU ARE THE STUPID ONE! SMG4!!!!: He screamed out, as his winded up fists slammed into the mutilated remains of the spaghetti.

BOOM!!!

The cave shook with a near deafening rumble, as Mario, who was still trapped within his Cauldron, raised his voice up at the ‘sky’. “You here-a that, Luke?! You are the stupid one here dammit!!” Mario shook his fist at the disembodied voice, face still bright red with fuming anger.

“..... Well, good going idiot.” ‘Luke’ commented with a condescending tone, boarding on the line of snark. The cave shook as the emerging crevices began to part.

Mario didn’t take that well, yet again flipping ‘Luke’ off by giving him the bird. “Oh Fuck-a You!” He stayed like this for a solid five seconds, even as the rumbling reverberated through the cavern, rippling through every crack and pebble. “….. wait, what are you-a talking abou-“

The mountain began to crumble, the cracks and crevices had formed across the entire rock. Inside the cave, it was as if the inside of the cavern had opened it’s hideous mouth, vomiting falling rocks and boulders, as dust and powdered rock poured from the crevices.

The absent minded Plumber did not make any attempt to flee, his legs were still encased by his Cauldron Prison, and he was still witnessing an afterglow from his rage induced fury.

He was still.

He was unmoving.

But he felt like he was running a mile! Even so, he did what he always did, merely blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Mamma mia….” he cursed underneath his breath, as he felt the mountain swallow him hole, and he didn’t even resist, merely stare at it realising he screwed up.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The forest, bathed in the soft light of early morning, felt alive at this moment. The sun's rays filtering through the canopy and casting gentle silhouettes of the tree branches on the forest floor. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth.

Faint footsteps echoed through the forest, the crunching of leaves and snap of twigs added resonance to the woodland landscape.

A man was walking through the forest; a gruff, blonde man ensembled in red and black, his posture was straight, as he took confident strides through the bristling trees, looming over his much smaller frame. He moved cautiously, every sound amplified in the cool morning air. The forest’s shadows stretched long and thin, shifting as he walked, creating an ever-changing tapestry of light and dark.

The distant chipper of birds and the occasional rustle of hidden animals were the only sounds breaking the serene quiet. The gentle sway of the branches overhead created a soft, rhythmic rustle, a whispering accompaniment to his progress.

As he emerged into a sunlit clearing, the tension gave way to exhilaration. With his usual stoic disposition, FM turned to the surrounding trees and exclaimed in a bold, boisterous voice that stood in contrast to his stone cold face;

“Alright Laddies, whose ready for camping.”

The group that had accompanied FM were all huddled together beside a large rock. A comically large bag was beside them, probably filled to the brim with camping supplies. X was sitting on the large rock, staring at his friend with an unamused expression.

Meanwhile, Mario was sitting by the grass flat on his big Italian ass. His eyes were closed as he dozed off to sleep, nodding his head to the rhythmic ambiance of the forest.

“So...” X began to speak, “why are we here again?” He asked before his attention diverted to the snoozing Mario by the grass.

FM turned to the attentive duo joining him. “Because X, Bloopersville’s fake environment had ye all runnin’ like houseplants. Dependent on fake light and instant fast food. This is tae recalibrate yer mental states.”

X’s stare never wavered during this briefing. “So, you’re comparing us to indoor house plants?" He summerised.

With a curt nod, the blonde Recolor affirmed X’s statement. “Exactly.” The two turned their heads to the third member of their group. Dozing off in dreamland, oblivious to the world around him.

“Mario!” The aforementioned Italian abruptly woke up from his name being called out. “Alrighty, so we’re-a basically gettin’ lost in the woods and touchin’ grass. Right?” He muttered out, his usually chipper tone held back due to the sudden grogginess.

“..... Close enough.” FM admitted, turning around to the wilderness in front of them. The path seems rather eerie, despite the soft ambiance it provided. He turned his back to the two, and noticed a particular problem. “Hey, Mario?” FM addressed the Red Capped Italian with his usual stoicism. “Didn’t ye say ye were bringin' some friends with ye?"

Mario hummed to himself for a few moments, as if trying to remember if he did do that. “Oh yeah!” He suddenly recalled, whipping his phone out and dialing a number. Then he lunged his hand at his own phone, and somehow, pulled out Toad from his phone like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

A moment of silence befallen the group. The only sounds present were the little fungus man’s frustrated shrieks of protest, flailing within Mario’s hold screaming curses and threats.

Meanwhile, the Plumber seemed oblivious to his own actions, with his unaligned eyes and enlarged moustache. The two Recolors sweat dropped at the ridiculous sight, before FM regained his composure and steered his sights towards the path ahead.

“Regardless, let’s get going lads.” FM encouraged, making his way towards the forest. The rest of the fully formed camping group followed suit; X trailed behind their shaved blonde leader, Mario followed with a cheerful hum, and Toad waddled his way with the group, grumbling about how his life sucks and being forced to join these idiots.

Typical Beta Male Energy.

The group found themselves at a picturesque clearing in the heart of the forest. The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of leaves above, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the forest floor. The air was fresh and crisp, filled with the gentle hum of insects and the distant call of birds.

“So..... what's on the agenda first?” X asked, looking around the clearing they found themselves in. Mario was still in his oblivious and retarded state, which was starting to irritate the begrudging Toad.

“Set up camp.” FM curtly replied.

Mario raised in hand up. “What’s that?” He asked, genuinely confused on what FM was asking for. “Yeah, we don’t really know how to do that.” X had to agree with Mario’s confusion, not really well versed in camping in general.

“Besides, I doubt this dumbass can even set up a chair!” Toad remarked, gesturing to the Italian Plumber. This did not go unnoticed by Mario, however, as he childishly glared back at the stumpy little fungus man. “Uh, excuse me? What the actual fuck did you just say to me?”

“..... let's just get these tents up." FM finally said with resignation, making his way to the bag of supplies. This left Mario, Toad and X to stare at each other, exchanging glances on what they’re suppose to do.

“I mean... It can’t be that-a hard!” Mario tried reassured the group.

『15 Seconds Later』

“God Dammit, I told ya to hold it still!” X said to Toad, his frustration was palpable as the group surrounded the tent. Which was currently a flat sheet of polyester, with a tangled pile of steel pegs jumbled within the mess that laid in front of them.

“It was Mario’s fault!” Toad declared, shifting the blame to someone else. “No it wasn’t Toad!” Mario vehemently denied, upset by the implication.

“It was your fault!” X pointed the blame to Toad again, FM even joined in the blaming game. Soon the whole group devolved to pointing fingers at each other than doing anything practical. Like..... fixing up the tent.

“No!” Toad denied, pointing his accusatory finger at a certain Red and Blue Plumber. “It was that fucke-“

Mario’s fist somehow made it way to Toad’s face with an added “Fuck-a You!” for good measure.

Eventually after that whole…. debacle just happened. The group of campers decided to just restart their efforts to setting up their tent, it goes as well as one would expect from these gaggle of idiots.

FM stood sternly over the tangled mass of tent fabric and poles, glaring at the tent’s refusal to cooperate. "Right, let’s have at it," he said with a base as thick as a Highland fog. "We follow the instructions this time laddies. Pitch the tent, and no faffing about."

The pessimistic X, meanwhile was crouched beside the mess of tent poles. Looking at the mess in front of him like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube with a blindfold on. "I already hate this..." he grumbled. "I swear, I can't get anything done with you Gringo's screwing things up.”

Meanwhile, Mario was in the middle of the tent. He was happily using the tent fabric as a pillow, completely unaware of the unfolding disaster. "Who needs instructions? I’m-a bet you can’t do this!” He declared, flopping around and unintentionally turning the tent into a pretzel.

Toad, who was more than irritated with this debacle that Mario had forcibly abducted him into, spat out a whole tirade of bitching and moaning. “You know, I was perfectly fine at home. And now I’m stuck here with you idiots!” Toad spat, glaring daggers at Mario. “Especially this fatass!”

The fatass in question in return, stuck his tongue out at the Toadstool.

While not perfect, FM and X had come to a sort of grumpy harmony, managing to untangle the mess of polyester and steel pipes. FM trying to maintain his gruff stoicism, while X’s unamused cynicism was a constant hum in the background.

"Alright, Mario," FM said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore Mario’s increasingly erratic behavior. "Put that fabric down and get these poles where they’re supposed to go. We don’t want to be here all day.”

Mario, still blissfully unaware of his surroundings, grabbed a tent pole and swung it like a sword. “Okie Dokie!” he shouted, completely missing the fact that he’d just knocked over a stack of stakes and hit X in the shin. "Ow! Dammit Mario, watch where you’re swinging that thing!" X yelped, hopping around on one foot and cradling his injured leg.

“I can tell this is gonna be peachy.” Toad sarcastically spat out, kicking the tent poles with increasing frustration. "This tent is a fucking disaster! Are we even doing this right?!”

Mario, who had decided that the tent’s fabric was a new type of blanket, was now wrapped up like a human burrito. "Eh, this is more comfortable than I thought," he said, snuggling into the fabric. "We’re done here, right?"

FM tried to suppress a sigh. “By the saints, this is a nightmare.” Mario’s increasingly bizarre behavior wasn’t exactly subtle, and he will admit it had been getting to him and X. But they chose not to address it to him...

... at least, not right now.

Still, it didn’t quell X’s growing frustration. With gritted teeth and pulsating veins, the Latino looked about ready to murder the childish Plumber. Seeing this, FM attempted to mediate the chaos. “Mario, how about ye get some firewood.” He then turned to shortest member of their group. “And Toad, how about ye go and chaperone Mario aye? Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

Upon hearing this, Mario sprang out from his polyester blanket and whipped out a Chainsaw from seemingly nowhere. “Let’s-a go!!!” He screeched out, running towards the wilderness in an erratic fashion.

Toad, on the other hand, flashed FM a look of betrayal. “How dare you!” He bitterly spat out, all the while X seemed unbothered by the Fungus Man’s glare. The sounds of Mario’s eccentricities rang throughout the forest, forcing Toad to chase after the retarded Plumber.

With those two gone, FM and X could finally start figuring out how to put up this tent.

The erratic Mario and the frustrated Toad made their way through the forest, now alive with the idyllic sounds of nature and the revving of chaotic shenanigans. Mario was racing around like a mad man, swinging the Chainsaw with reckless abandon.

Trees wobble but stay upright as MARIO slashes at them wildly. Toad, who had stopped his pursuit to take a much needed breath, witnessed the whole thing by a clearing with an expression of sheer exasperation.

“Mario, for the love of god! Shut up!” Toad shouted, his voice reverberated with the of Chainsaw, threatened to be drowned within it’s roar. “We’re supposed to be gathering firewood, not fucking deforestation!”

Mario didn’t seemed concerned, his eyes crossed and mustache twitching uncontrollably as he zoomed past Toad, narrowly missing a tree. “Wahoo! Look at me go!” He cheered himself on, delirious with excitement as continued his bat shit insane antics on the poor, unassuming trees.

This madness went on for while, as Toad stood flabbergasted at the unwarranted destruction Mario was causing. He stood still and gawked at the sight, even as he heard a few tree’s tumble to the ground behind him, the shockwaves from the impact blowing his vest. Mario’s constant cheers of manic joy only intensified Toad’s irritable terror.

“Mario, even by your standards, this is batshit insane.” Toad admitted, a frown spread across his stem face. “You’re being way too much right now man. It’s like giving a monkey a flamethrower!”

Mario paused, his rampage and adrenaline subsided as he stared blankly at the grumpy midget. “Huh? Is Mario the monkey or the flamethrower?” His eyes widened with childlike glee. “Am I-a part Donkey Kong?!”

Fed up at this point, Toad stormed up to the Portly Plumber. Well, more like waddle his way towards him with his stumpy little legs, snatching the Chainsaw from Mario’s grasp and hurling it away. The Toadstool’s face was a ensembled mix of irritation and a small sense of amusement.

“Okay seriously, what is with you today?” He demanded, gesturing to the taller moustached man in front of him. “You’ve always been a moron, but now your retarded meter seems to be dialed up from one to a thousand!”

Silence had befallen the two Nintendo Characters. The Portly Plumber shifted uncomfortably. Toad narrowed his beady eyes at this display of vulnerability, as Mario seemed to physically struggle coming up with a response, opening his mouth to speak, only for him to resign his statements with great reluctance, before they even left his moustached mouth.

“I don’t know...” Mario admits, his usual bravado quivered with timidness.

“Maybe, I just feel... I don't know.” Toad raised his brow, wonder what he meant by that. “Elaborate?” He asked with uncertainty, waiting for Mario to continue further.

『Meanwhile』

Back at the clearing, FM was nearly finished setting up the tent. His red eyes narrowed in focus as he hammered down the legs, supporting the veil of polyester and keeping it in place.

X watched from aside as his best friend continued his work, his serious and stoic demeanor unshaken. But he looked..... too serious.

“Penny for your thoughts boss?” X asked, attempting to start small talk with the finesse of a used car salesman.

“No.” FM bluntly responded, finishing up hammering the pins supporting the poles. The last tap ensured the tent’s stability and structural integrity.

Sighing in relief, FM stood back in satisfaction as he see’s the tent finally finished. “There we go, laddie.” He said with a proud tone, reaching his hand out to touch the fruits of their labor. Suddenly, X’s future sight seemed to have foresighted him something, judging by his mild, nervous panic.

“Uh FM...” X warned, “you may not wanna touch that ye-“

As soon as FM’s magenta gloved hand even made contact, the tent instantly deflated like a balloon, shrinking down to the grass like a melted puddle.

FM remained silent after that transgression, but his frame was shaking uncontrollably, as his stoic mask began to slowly slip. X sighed with a smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face, only fueling FM’s palpable frustration. “I told ya not to touch that darn thin-“

FM hurled the hammer at X’s face, with the Latino reeling back in pain from the impact. “AHH! WHAT THE HELL MAN?!” Apparently future sight didn’t do shit for him there.

Meanwhile, Mario and Toad were still deep in the forest. The clutter and destruction brought upon the woods contrasted with the discussion these two men were having.

“And yeah, Mario thought to himself… that maybe I needed to get away from it all.” He confessed, recounting the moment where he left the SMG4 Crew. “I thought it would-a help if I tried to be normal. But, it’s not-a working... It’s really-a not working.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagged as though a heavy weight was being lifted. It was still there, but Mario could always pretend.

Listening to the whole story, Toad sighs deeply, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, join the fricking club man. We’ve all got our issues, cause life sucks that way.” He admitted, his usual glare softened just a slight bit.

He really wanted to say something, but his mouth came empty with words of reassurance. This never happened before, in all of his time enduring Mario’s and the Kingdom’s bullshit, this was a new development for both of them.

“Look Mario, you are perhaps the biggest idiot I ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

The idiot in question scratched his head, slightly perplexed by Toad’s words. “But you are also the most persistent with your stupidity, and sometimes...” Toad’s tone slightly softened with an exasperated fondness. “... that works out well for everyone.”

". . . . ."

This moment of clarity seemed to have struck a cord within Mario, because he felt better. He didn’t know why, but the assurance that he is a retard by Toad of all people seemed to have resonate with him. He didn’t know why, but he’s not gonna complain about it.

“Now come on, let’s get this wood back to the camp.” Toad said, gesturing to the few tree’s that Mario had chopped down during his rampage. It was more than enough for the campfire for sure. Mario nodded his head, grabbing one of the fallen tree’s over his shoulders as the two began to make their way back to camp.

“Mama Mia!” Toad startled slightly by the outburst, snapping his head towards the Plumber. “What! What the hell was that about?!” He demanded. Meanwhile, Mario was dramatically pointing behind Toad’s back, his eyes widened in mild surprise.

“It’s a Freddy Fazbear!!!”

Toad turned around with mild annoyance, still apprehensive of Mario’s retarded behavior. Only for his eyes to widen in shock at what Mario was alarmed by.

It was a Bear.

But not just any Bear. This was no ordinary woodland creature. This was a Bear that looked like it had stepped out of a nature documentary on steroids. It was enormous, with a coat of fur so dark it seemed to absorb the sunlight. Its claws were so sharp they could probably slice through steel, and its bulk was imposing enough to make the surrounding trees seem like mere toothpicks.

The silence was palpable, as the duo faced the Grizzly Beast in front of them. The Bear stood there, menacingly, especially since it was standing with two legs, towering over the two.

Until.....

“Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur Ur!” Mario’s eyes crossed in an awkward disposition, as the pair awkwardly shuffled away from the Bear with jittering haste.

The Bear didn’t give chase, but it did observe the two cowering men. It heard a rustle from behind.

“We’re back!” FM and X heard the squeaky and somewhat raspy voice of Toad call out to them. The had just finished rebuilding the tent, it’s saturated blue polyester shell veiled it’s dome-shape.

Mario followed in toe, carrying three full trees over his shoulders, unaffected by the sheer weight of it all. Walking up to the camp-site, the Red Capped Italian plopped them down with ease, even though they were make from bark, they clanged like steel pipes.

"Say, I'm-a hungry! Have you got any food?" Mario asked, rubbing his belly in anticipation. FM rolled his eyes with a melancholic fondness. "Aye, be right back." He assured, making his way to the bag.

"..... Bloody hell!"

The group slightly flinched from FM's outburst. “Where are the snacks?” He piped up, rummaging through the bag to find a lack of snacks. Immediately, all eyes turned to the resident Red Capped Glutton. Mario, on the other hand, gasped in mock offence, raising his hands in surrender.

“Uh, nooooooo~" Mario defended himself, shrugging his shoulders with dramatic flair. “Toad did it.” The Plumber quickly blurted out, shifting the blame immediately. 

"I'm right next to you dumbass." Toad snarked back, rolling his eyes at the Plumber. "Toad said it." "God, shut up." The Toadstool groaned out.

"God shut up. Both of you." X remarked, his mask of disinterest morphed to a pensive and irritated expression, effectively clamming the duo into silence. Now, FM and X didn't believe Mario in the slightest, but seemed to be content with letting it go.

Because Mario still doesn’t know about th-

“So now what?” Toad demanded, addressing the issue that they have no food for the evening.

“Don’t worry! Mario will order a pizza!” The Portly Plumber exclaimed, whipping out his phone. With the meticulousness of an old lady, he began to dial the number in a slow, methodical pace. The usual unalignment of his eyes were narrow and focused, concentrating on the task at hand.

X watched this with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temple for added emphasis. “Mario, we’re in the middle of the woods. You won’t have enough signal fo-“

“Hello sir! What you like to order!”

Mario than began to ramble with an excited tone on the pizza they would like to order. Meanwhile, X looked on with complete bafflement at the Italian Plumber for just proving him wrong somehow. After that the call ended, with the group now waiting for their pizza to be delivered.

『Later』

The campers now found themselves huddled by the campsite, impatiently waiting for the pizza to arrive. “Come on!” Mario whined, flopping to the grass covered ground out of sheer boredom. X agreed with Mario’s sentiment, but expressed it in a less immature way.

“This is such a drag.” He complained, sitting by the grass with an unamused and bored expression. "I hate camping..."

Finally, Mario's patience wore thin. “That’s it!” He sprung up from his spot and began to storm off to satiate his own boredom.

“Non ce la faccio più, sono annoiato da morire!” He rambled in his native tongue, his complaints in Italian slowly faded into the forest’s ambiance as he continued further down.

Eventually, Mario found himself within a small clearing of the forest, his frustration slowly dwindling from the excessive walking he has done so far. He hunched down to catch his breath, chest heaving with each drawled huff and puff.

“Mamma mia...” the Italian mused to himself, “Mario needs to get in shape!” He huffed out, straightening his back as his moustache twitched. Something caught Mario’s eye. Turning his gaze to the forest, the plumber felt the compelling need to peer through the tree’s, peer through the branches to the veil of darkness that awaited.

But beyond shadows, branches and bark could the Plumber see a certain shape materialise from the darkness.

Something was watching him.

Mario couldn’t fully make out the creepy stranger, as it’s facial features were completely obscured. But he could make out it’s shape and overall figure. It was furry, that much he could tell, his whole frame seems to be covered or skinned within a layer of red fleece like fur.

Though it was hard to tell considering it seemed that it was wearing a black and white stripped shirt. It’s head shape was also peculiar, with two long dish-shaped appendages stick on top of it’s head. From where Mario stood, it seemed to be a Red Rabbit.

..... wait, a Red Rabbi-

“Yo, dude!” A whiney sounding voice called out to the distracted Plumber, Mario turned around to see Toad trying to catch his attention. He walked up to the Plumber and began to ask what he was doing.

Immediately, Mario gestured to the woodlands where the mysterious creature was peering through. “Do you see that?” Mario asked, expecting Toad to follow up with his reaction. Instead, Toad furrowed his beady eyes in confusion. “See what?”

Mario turned to where he was pointing to, only to be meet with the darkness that veiled the trees and forest, no Red Rabbit in sight. The Italian man could only gawk in surprise and shock, confused as to where the thing could have gone.

Toad, meanwhile, could only sigh at the Portly Italian, gesturing him to follow him back to camp. “Weird creature isn’t real, it can’t hurt you.” He sarcastically snarked, with Mario only being able to follow him back with no proper retort.

Suddenly, they heard a shuffle from behind them. They turned around in high alert, turning with quick and frantic movement. What they say behind them was a raccoon, seemingly just observing the Moustached Man and the Toadstool.

Toad turned over to the staring Plumber with a knowing look, shaking his head in abject disapproval. “Mario… don’t you do it.” He tried to warn him, but it fell upon deaf ears. Immediately, Mario lunged out towards the raccoon, hunger and malicious intent within his crazed gaze.

FM and X were still conversing even when the two joined them back at the camp site. They turned around and were quite alarmed at Mario’s freshly scratched face.

"Bloody hell, what happened to ye face?” Mario just walked passed FM, muttering out “Mario don’t wanna talk about it.” This only made FM raise his brow in confusion, he turned over to Toad, who merely gave a shrug in response.

The Pizza still hasn’t arrived yet, and the group was beginning to grow agitated. “We could go fishing?” FM suggested with a shrug, “better than waiting for pizza.”

“Dude, it’s cold as shit right now! I’m not wasting time fishing!” Toad whined, impatiently tapping his foot repeatedly.

Suddenly, X’s eyes widened in a panic. “Uh, FM? We might wanna hold off on that.” The shaved blonde looked at his friend in confusion, especially because the Latino was sweating bullets.

His whole frame was shaking in fear, as his eyes encapsulated an immanent fear. A fear of what though? Toad seemed to gave caught on, glancing at the trembling X with a raised brow.

“X, what the fuck are you on abou-“

ROAR!!!

Everyone froze mid-action, eyes wide and ears straining. What was that noise? And where in the name of all things sensible was it coming from?

The group huddled together, forming a defensive circle with less than intimidating results. Looking more like they were preparing for a really awkward dance-off. They squinted into the dark forest, where the noise was coming from. Whatever it was, it was big. Bigger than your average “I’m not touching that” creature.

The suspense was gradual, as the noise grew louder and louder. The shuffling of tree’s intensifying the looming threat ahead of the group. The rustle of dry grass and the snapping of twigs became more and more adjacent to the campsite.

The silence that had befallen the group was palpable, but nobody dared to day a word.

“Hurry up already!” Mario impatiently yelled, already growing bored of this game of apprehension. Too bad the big bad looming threat couldn’t get to them faster!

Suddenly, as if a response to Mario’s impatience, the source of the commotion emerged from the darkness:

The Bear had found them!

“AH, SHIT! IT’S IN OUR TENT!” Toad’s voice was an amalgamation of panic and resignation;. The way he said it was like announcing that the Wi-Fi was down, sudden and catastrophic.

“Toad?” FM asked, his stoic show of concern into something that sounded more like a threat. “What in the name of all that’s holy did ye bring into our tent?”

Toad’s face was a beacon of sweat and regret. “Well, I might have brought—”

“I’M FUCKING INVINCIBLE!!!!”

The Bear roared, or rather bellowed, as it erupted from Toad’s tent. It was no longer just a Bear; it had become a floating, glowing spectacle of absurdity. The bear levitated several feet off the ground, its eyes glowed with an otherworldly, ethereal luminescence that enhanced it’s sense of divinity.

It strutted around with an air of cosmic superiority, transcended beyond it’s mortal limitations, and the subject of it’s divine judgement was the campers below it’s almighty gaze.

". . . . ."

“We’re so cooked.” X assessed their situation with a very valid, albeit blunt delivery.

Naturally, Toad had brought cocaine. The bear’s transformation into a celestial being was apparently a side effect of Toad’s dubious decisions. The group exchanged looks of sheer exasperation, their expressions ranging from incredulous to horrified. Toad, hands raised in a gesture of mock surrender, tried to justify his actions. “What?! I wanted to try something new, alright?!”

“Dumbass.” X muttered, his voice practically dripping with a pessimism. Toad didn’t let that slide, however, retorting with his own; “hey, fuck you man.” X’s eyes flitted nervously between the levitating bear and his questionable companions. “Great, now we got a bear that’s not only high but probably thinks it’s the second coming or something. Idea's anyone?”

Mario, who had been quietly observing the spectacle with a bewildered expression, suddenly perked up with a burst of manic energy. “Let’s get the cross then!” He suggested, his mind clearly in a different place at the moment.

“Mario,” Toad snapped, his voice tinged with exasperation, “I don’t think that’s gonna work. Look at this motherfucker!” He franticly gestures to the floating, probably omniscient grizzly. “He’s like 500 pounds and in the Avatar State! How the fuck are we gonna crucify him!”

Mario simply shrugged his shoulders, his pupils twisted sideways as if the say; “I don’t know!”

Their brief conversation was quickly interrupted when the bear let out another roar at the camping plebs, floating down to the ground with a graceful descent.

From where the group were standing, the Bear seemed more intimidating. It’s body overshadowed, with it’s glowing eyes being the only thing visible from it’s girthy silhouette, glaring at them like an all powerful Deity.

A very, very angry all powerful Deity.

“Bloody hell!” FM spat out, his Scottish stoicism now took on an almost mythic quality. His frustration was palpable, his voice echoing with a thunderous intensity. “Well...” His tone grew bolder, crimson eyes narrowed with fiery determination.

“HAVE AT THEM LADS!!!”

With an autistic yet invigorating battle cry, the group of campers charged at the Cosmic Bear with all their unthreatening fury. Except for X, who opted to stay behind while they charged at the screeching trio. "Yeah, I'm not doing that..." he mused out, crossing is arms and watching the chaos unfold.

The Cosmic Bear, seeing the group advancing, propels itself up in the air, levitating over them. Frustrated, Toad frantically asked FM; “Yo, you strapped?!” Without saying a word, FM pulled out his handgun from his holster, affirming his right of arms.

Seeing this, Toad pulled out two SMG1’s from his person. Giving a wicked grin, the two began to open fire at the burley deity, unloading everything their guns had to offer.

But the Cosmic Bear slams it’s paws together, as ethereal energy begins to form around him, creating a domed force field that blocks all the gunfire.

“Hacks!” Mario cried out in an uproar. “That’s-a fucking hacks!”

Toad then pulls out a Rocket Launcher from seemingly nowhere, aiming the weapon at the force field protecting the Bear. Giving a sinister smile, Toad fired the Rocket Launcher with a squeaky and not at all irritating voice; “Fire in the Hole!”

The Cosmic Bear’s eyes glinted as it dropped the force field and with relative ease swirls himself to weave the oncoming rocket. With a flick of its colossal paw, it conjured a swirling Cosmic Sphere of Energy and hurled it at the group. The sphere glowed with a menacing light, trailing cosmic flames.

Upon seeing this, FM and Mario managed avoid the oncoming Cosmic Spheres. FM manages to executed a barrel roll and recover quickly.

Meanwhile Mario, his eyes wide and crossed in alarm, tumbled out of the way, landing in a messy heap. Panicking, Toad fires another rocket, this time at the Bear God descending towards them.

However, it met the rocket mid-flight. “You serve no purpose in life!” It snarled, as it bit the rocket in half, the explosive device detonating mouth. But when the smoke cleared, the rocket didn’t have any real effects on the Cosmic Bear, landing gracefully as it slices through Toad’s Rocket Launcher with a single swipe of its claws.

“Oh that is some bullshit!” Toad incredulity yelled, before getting punted like a football.

FM, now face to face with the Cosmic Bear, readied his fists and charged at the bear. He swing with precision and force, landing a few decent blows that manages to stagger the bear back.

The Cosmic Bear tried to advance forward, swinging it’s claws wildly at the shaved blonde. But FM was easily able to dodge and weave the clawed strikes, even sending a powerful blow that had the Bear reeling back.

But eventually, the Cosmic Bear had enough of the charades. Flying back a few feet, the Burly Deity released a Cosmic Sphere towards the crimsoned eyed fighter, forcing him to retreat from the blast. He flew across the campsite due to the impact’s shockwaves.

The Cosmic Bear then advances towards the first person it saw, which just so happened to be the spectating teal and green form of X. "Ah shit..." He hissed, watching as the Cosmic Bear charged forward like a bullet train, ready to splatter him into pieces.

But in a surprise turn of events, Mario leaps onto the bear’s back and grabbed it’s neck. It wobbles from the sudden weight on it’s back, thrown off-balance.

Mario is reveling in this; “Ha hah! I’m-a light headed!” He screamed with ecstatic adrenaline, but is struggling with wrestling on the bear’s back as it thrashes around.

Roaring in defiance, the Cosmic Bear manages to shake Mario off it’s hide. “So long, Gay Mario!” It taunted, grabbing him by the legs and hurling him towards FM and Toad. “Mama Fucker!” Mario screams out, as his body collides with the two, sending them into a tangled pile of morons.

As the Cosmic Bear turned its attention to X, it prepared to unleash another cosmic blast. X narrowly manages to dodge the blast, rolling out of the way at the last possible second. Now the Burly Deity looming over the downed Latino, its eyes glowing with a sinister light.

“You serve no purpose in life!” the Cosmic Bear growled, its voice resonating with cosmic authority. However, X seemed unthreatened by this, pointing up towards it and saying, “zero purpose, whatsoever!.....”

“...You should kill yourself, now!”

“...You should kill yourself, now!”

The Cosmic Bear’s eyes widened in shock, momentarily stunned by X seemingly predicting it’s sentence.

But before it could comprehend this, FM and Toad had scrambled to their feet, their weapons at the ready. They began unloading their entire mags, bullets hailing at the Cosmic Bear. It didn’t pierce it’s fur, but it did cause it to stagger slightly.

The Burly Deity began the process of summoning his force field, but before it could clap it’s paws together, it felt a pair of arms wrapping around it’s torso.

Grinning with manic anticipation, Mario lifted the Cosmic Bear with a mighty ‘Wahoo!’ “Take-a this!” He bellowed, slamming the bear onto the ground with a tremendous crash, proud and satisfied for supplexing a bear!

The Cosmic Bear, disoriented and enraged, flies up towards the sky. “Ah shit!” X cursed out, “the motherfucker went back to creative mode!”

The Bear summons another Cosmic Sphere over it’s head, prepared to hurl it at the group. It conveyed an air of true divinity, as the setting sun illuminated across it’s fur, radiating pure luminescence as it levitated with such grace and fluidity.

X looked at his friends with a passive but exasperated expression. “We’re gonna be the end of our bloodline, huh.” He breathed out, seeing no hope in this situation. Each one gave a sound or gesture of reluctant agreement, as the Cosmic Sphere only grew brighter and larger.

Suddenly, black tendrils emerged from the trees and ensnared one of the Cosmic Bear’s legs. Being caught of guard by this sequent of events, it didn’t have time to defend itself as it was violently anchored back to the earth, crashing into the campsite with a creator to show for it.

Before anyone else could comprehend this, the Cosmic Bear was flung to the stratosphere, as the black tendrils retreated back to the woodland forest. The group stood there in shock, as rustling was heard admits the darkness, as some braced themselves for what’s to come.

A figure emerged from the forest; standing unnaturally tall and ghastly pale, it wore a simple black suit and had no face. This was great news. “Slendy!’ Mario cheerfully greeted, running towards the towering creepypasta. The others took a sigh of relief, some knowledge of his relationship with Mario putting them at relative ease.

And even better, Slenderman was holding two boxes of Pizza, the one’s that Mario ordered earlier. This put the Portly Plumber in an even better mood, jumping up and down in giddy excitement. “Slenderman’s works for Pizza delivery?” X whisper to FM, he shrugs in response, not sure how to properly answer that question.

『Meanwhile, in the Other Side of the Woods』

A Mario Recolor in Red Blue and Yellow Colors was lying on the floor somewhere in the forest, recently just beaten to near death while delivering a Pizza to this order in the middle of the woods.

The Pizza Delivery was nowhere to be found within his bruised and mangled body.

Either way, the moon had finally allowed itself to shine across the night sky and they had a campfire set up. Now enjoying a good slice of pizza, FM and X began to talk about their day, with Toad occasionally chiming in to either complain or interact in their conversation. Mario was huddled amongst the group, but something was off.

He felt distant..... incompatible..... isolated.....

He didn’t know why, but he felt like even though he was surrounded by “friends”, they weren’t truly his friends. That he does not have friends, just people that barely tolerated him. And he didn’t know how to feel about that.

Without warning, Mario quietly got up and walked away from the campfire to get some space to think. X got a glance at Mario’s retreating form, his eyes softened. Once Mario found himself alone, he did the one thing he always hated to do..... allow his mind to think.

Mario hated thinking, it does nothing but hurt his brain. And he doesn’t like it when his brain gets hurt, by himself, or others. Because the brain would tell him to do things, then contradict those things with other things, and vice versa.

Sometimes his brain would just not say anything, Mario doesn’t even think his brain can breathe, much less think. It felt cold inside his brain, like something was missing, something was wrong, something was bro-

Mario’s thoughts were pushed away when a hand firmly placed itself upon the Italian’s shoulders. He turned to see the non-existent face of his friend Slenderman, still present with the campsite, ‘giving’ a look of curiosity, wanting to know why Mario was not with the rest of the group.

Mario sighed, a rare glimmer of vulnerability slithered across the seams of his cracked facade of oblivious and manic stupidity. “Hmmm, can’t-a keep secrets from you.” Mario admitted, as the sharply dressed entity ‘looked’ down at his friend with concern.

“Maybe.... Mario doesn’t feel okay.”

Slenderman’s gaze didn’t waver, allowing Mario to continue speaking. “Maybe, Mario does not-a belong here. In his own world..... maybe.” He wanted to say more, but how could he? What more was there to say? So he didn’t continue on, and just left it at that.

Now, the Faceless Creepypasta and the Moustached Italian Man, side by side, were just standing next to each other. The silence and atmosphere unveiled a palpable awkwardness and somberness, brought upon by Mario’s own confusion with his thoughts and feelings.

Slenderman looked on at his Italian friend with worry. In all the few instances where they’ve been together, he had never seen Mario so down..... so low. He blamed that blue and white impersonator, the testament of hubris himself, the virus of this diseased world.

If he had the chance, he would never have let Mario stay with that disgrace called SMG4, and those morons that are associated within his guild. The fact that Mario’s was in Bloopersville, without the company of SMG4 or those hacks he calls friends speaks for itself.

But personal thoughts aside, Slenderman knew as a friend that Mario needs him right now, even if he doesn’t want it, he knows he needs it. Confrontations are out of the question, it would be taking advantage of a low moment, and he didn’t need that kind of pressure.

He knows he can’t talk, at least in the conventional sense, so breaking ice through comedy wasn’t a viable solution.

But, maybe..... there was another way to show him.

Gaining Mario’s attention, he directed his gaze at the campfire, where FM, X and Toad were bustling in stories and laughs. Even FM’s usual stoic disposition cracked a genuine smile, as he leaned on X for support due to laughing at Toad recounting the time he beat Bob’s ass with a shovel.

Perhaps it was this moment where the floodgate of memories began to sweep Mario’s mind. From Chain Chomps and Possessed Dolls, to fucking around in High Schools or Pipe Kingdoms, to kicking the ass of Robot, Furries, Teletubbies and Evil Stars.

Mario remembered those moments, where it wasn’t about arc’s, depression, views or drama.

It was just fun shenanigans for the hell of it. And what were they doing now, without SMG4 there?

They were having fun, as Toad somehow brought alcohol to the camp, and now everyone was having fun, huddled around the campfire with pizza and booze. He wanted to join in on the fun..... Mario wanted to have fun.

He turned to Slenderman, who just gave a methodical nod, as if he already knew what he was going to ask. And for Mario, that was a response enough for him.

With a newfound sense of motivation, the Portly Plumber made his strides towards the fun, his moustache etched up to mimic a beaming smile. Satisfied with this, Slenderman made it his que to leave.

“Slendy!” The towering entity turn over to Mario, it’s presence, while unnerving, provided a semblance of comfort within the Plumber.

“Thank you.....” Mario paused, “for being my best friend.”

That moment of sincerity struck a chord within both of them. For Mario, it was something he wanted to say for quite some time. And for Slenderman, it was something he needed to hear for an eternity. ‘But that wasn’t enough!’ Mario thought to himself, waving his hand in a gesturing motion, beckoning him to come forth and join him. Slenderman accepted this invitation, sauntering forward to join Mario.

As they arrived, the rest of the group notice them returning. They all had big smiles, happy that their friends would join them.

A small action for most.....

..... but a big significance for the few.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It was a bright and idyllic morning in the town of Bloopersville, the sun shone bright as it illuminated the sky in baby blue, allowing the clouds to coast on through the horizon.

While there were some residence and Recolors walking through the town square, most had opted to stay at home for now.

It was one of those lazy days.

Within the apartment complex of Bloopersville, in one particular apartment, the three current residence of it were preoccupied with something. One of them, Mario, was in the living room, sitting on the carpet while playing with those shape sorting boxes. It seemed like he was having a bit of trouble

Meanwhile, X was in the kitchen, sitting on the countertop and gorging on some reheated chicken nuggets. While he would sneak in occasional glances at Mario, his attention seemed to be predominantly on the nuggets in front of him. FM then emerged from the hallway and turned his head to his roommate.

“X, it's time tae go.” FM curtly informed X, entering the kitchen with a small blue and white penguin safely tucked within his arms. X turned around, surprised by the crimson eyed man’s sudden announcement.

Nevertheless, he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Right, right yeah... the appointment.” He looked down at the penguin in FM’s arms. “You bringing Cube with us?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Aye.” FM answered, his usual Scottish stoicism conveyed a sense of warmth and tender affection for the penguin. "I will not leave my feathery boy alone unsupervised."

Slightly taken aback by FM's intense response, X wearily nodded, walking up to the kitchen counter to grab his keys.

"What about him?” FM suddenly asked, as their heads swiveled to peer at the Italian man in question, who was still struggling with his elementary level situation, shoving the square block in the triangle slot.

“Mario is a grown ass man, I'm sure he'll be fine.” X adopted a carefree expression, leaning back his arms as he tried to reassure FM. In truth, he had concerns on whether Mario could be left unsupervised. But then he remembered the Portly Plumber is 25 years old, so he should be fine.

FM narrowed his eyes at that answer, sneaking another glance at the Italian man in their living room. “This seems a tad irresponsible.“ “Well, it is what it is. Unless you wanna tell him the-” FM cut X’s words with a sharp "No." The atmosphere grew heavy, silencing X.

With a reluctant sigh, the shaved blonde relented. “Aye, he'll stay here..... but we need tae keep him occupied.”

“Mario, we’re headin’ off to a scheduled appointment that’ll keep us busy for a couple o’hours.” FM and X are informing Mario about their plans for the day in the apartment living room.

The two roommates were right in front of the door, ready to depart, but needed to debrief their new temporary roommate while he was still functioning.

“Oh, so Mario is home alone?” The Italian clarified, before pumping his fist high in the air. “Wahoo!” X rolled his eyes at Mario’s childish response to this. “In the meantime, ye’ve got a list o’ chores to get through.” FM added, handing a piece of paper to the Plumber, who reluctantly accepted it.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the crimson eyed man beat him to the punch. “And no, ye cannot leave the flat until ye finish the chores listed laddie.” Mario pouted immaturely at that.

“Just do the damn chores man.” X provided his laxed input, opening the door behind them. “Right then,” FM said before walking out the door with X in toe, “dismissed!” The door closed behind them, leaving Mario officially unsupervised and home alone.

He stood alone in the middle of the living room staring aimlessly at the door where the two roommates had just departed from. His moustache had inflated in size as his pupils are yet again cross-eyed.

Eventually, the Italian’s idle obliviousness faded, his pupils and flavor saver reverting back to it’s original state.

“Well...” He muttered out, finally fishing out the piece of paper the shaved blonde gave to him before departing, the ‘Chores List’, as he called it. His eyes darted through the contents that were listed on the paper, brows lowered in pure focus and concentration.

After a few moments of analyzation, Mario lowered the paper from his face and gave a derpy smile and a heartly chuckle.

“Hahahaaa, Mario can’t reead…” The Plumber shamelessly admitted, squinting his eyes as he stared at the ‘Chores List’, seemingly unable to decipher the letters that stood next to the other letters in the piece of paper.

Also, just reading the first sentence already tired him, so there was no chance he would finish reading one word. “Hmmmm… Maybe I should ask someone for-a help.” He suggested to himself, realising that he may need a Player Two in this moment.

『Later』

“Okay, did you seriously called me here for this?” The foul attituded midget called Toad asked with exasperation, staring at the list he snatched from Mario when he arrived at the apartment. He glanced up at the Italian man with an expression of frustrated disbelief. “Whaaat? I can’t understand-a the letters next to the other letters!”

Toad did not take Mario’s excuse well, his brow raised up high. “Seriously? Are you retarded or something?” Immediately, Toad retracted his statement with a raised palm, “don’t answer that.” Rolling his beady eyes at Mario’s sheepish shrug, the midget shook his head as he began to skim through the ‘Chores List’.

Not that there was much to skim over, as either FM or X put the bare minimum with the list.

Probably to make it more simple for Mario to understand. Coughing and clearing his throat, Toad began to read the words out loud, catching Mario’s attention.

“MARIO! PLEASE DO THE FREAKING CHORES!”

“Vacuum and Mop The Apartment”

“Fold and Put Away The Clothes”

“Clean the Windows”

“Wash the Dishes”

Removing his gaze from the paper, Toad glanced up again at the much taller man. “Shouldn’t be too hard, can’t see how you’ll fuck it up.” Mario looked down at Toad with a expression that could be considered skeptical.

“You-a really think so?” He asked with hushed eagerness, waiting for his new companion to respond. Toad gave a relaxed shrug, which somewhat reassured the Italian.

“I mean like what could possibly go wrong?” He rhetorically asked.

“. . . . .”

Glancing down at the list, Toad spoke up. “Right, so I’m not bothered to go through this in order, so I’ll just say whatever…” Mario nods, though there was much hesitance and slumped shoulders, just realising now the house chores he will now have to endure.

“First thing’s first, put your fatass to work and wash the dishes.” The duo looked forward to the absurdly stacked piles of dishes sitting by the the kitchen counter.

Each plate and bowl had stains of grime or brown contrasting it’s natural ceramic and polished white surface. There were even stink lines emitting from the dish pile, only amplifying the nauseating sight.

Mario could only pale at the sight, his jaw dropped and eyes widened and hollow. Toad merely patted Mario on the back of his thigh, since he can’t reach his back. “Well, best get going.” Toad remarked, feeling no sympathy for the Plumber.

Grumbling underneath his moustache, Mario stormed his way to the kitchen behind the bench top. Grabbing the edge of one of the dirty plates, he grabbed a soap infused sponge and began to scrub.

The grime and stains began to be wiped from the plates ceramic surface, then proceeded to repeat that process with another plate.

The sink began to accumulate with the food infested grime, as Mario scrubbed more and more dishes. At first, he proceeded this process with ease, scrubbing each plate and bowl one by one. But the more he finished one plate, another one would appear in the dirty pile.

The more this unending pattern continued, the more Mario’s irk intensified. He felt his face burning red from gradual frustration, he felt the air in his head boiling up, and the sponge in his palm was gripped so hard, it inflated like a stress ball.

Thing went further array when Mario tried to scrub a plate with a particular stain etched upon it’s smooth surface. In retaliation to this unexpected resistance, Mario scrubbed even harder, his pace intensified in furious succession.

“MAMAA MAAAAA!!!!!” He was screeching his lungs out, scrubbing so hard that the friction was beginning to emit sparks, similar to metal scraping metal.

“Wow, that is sad.” Toad commented, almost feeling sympathetic for the Italian.

“Mama Fucker!” Mario spat out, just about fed up with this endless chore. “Let’s-a do do this the Mario way.” He ominously said, a grin slowly etched across his moustached face. Toad looked up to the once fuming Plumber in confusion, “Mario, what are you on abou-“

Before Toad could finish his sentence, Mario whipped out a gun from seemingly nowhere, a look of ecstatic anticipation on his face. The Toadstool was very much alarmed, jumping from his spot a few steps back, especially at seeing the idiot’s expression. “Jesus Christ! Is that a-“

“BANG! BANG! BANG!”

 BANG! BANG! BANG!

The remaining dishes shatter upon the gunshots, shards of stained ceramic and splashes of tainted water splatter in a nauseating eruption of food and porcelain.

Toad cowered and got on all fours, screaming in terror as Mario continued to fire upon the dishes blissfully and ecstatically. His smile didn’t let up, even his flavor saver couldn’t conceal his manic expression.

As the soup stained dust settled, there was nothing left. No shards of glass and ceramics, no tainted water or food stains, and not even any bullet holes from the ridiculous one man shootout!

Satisfied with a job ‘well done’, Mario gave a goofy grin, cross-eyed and jaw protruding, representing his moronic expression.

“I love-a you Kitchen Gun!” Mario giddily exclaimed, brandishing it like a treasured possession. Before promptly firing more shots at the dishes. “BANG! BANG! BANG!” He chanted, single fire rounds flying towards the piles of now ceramic shrapnel.

Amidst the chaos brought by the Moronic Mario, Toad had gotten over the initial panic that had washed over him. Now, he was impatiently waiting for the Italian to wrap up his Kitchen Gun demonstration. Rolling his eyes, he waited idly by, tapping his foot and frowning.

"..... god fucking dammit." Toad sighed, feeling a migraine forming.

『Eventually』

Toad placed the final plate in the cabinet, closing it with his stumpy palms. Thankfully, there were no high shelves he needed to cross for the plates and bowls, not that he would ever admit it though.

After closing the cabinet door for the last plate, the Toadstool turned over to the Moronic Maniac, only to be completely floored by what he saw in front of him.

“Ah, help-a me!” Mario screamed, his Italian cries muffled by the confound trap he found himself in. “I’m bein’ consumed by the cotton veil of evil!!”

The trap in question was a dark grey bedsheet he was currently flailing in, somehow he found himself completely entangled by it’s fabric, wriggling like a worm and desperately trying to be free of it.

Toad continued to stare absolute dumbfoundment as Mario continued to thrash upon his cotton prison. A drop of sweat fell down the Toadstools brow, a look of bewilderment still etched in his stem face.

"The fuck...?” He muttered out, still watching Mario comically try to escape the bedsheet ensnarement.

“They jumping me! They jumping me! Save ye boy!!” Mario’s pleads were left unheard, as Toad simply chose to downright ignore it, his patience for the Italian’s stupidity reaching it’s absolute limit.

“Alright, like this.” Toad demonstrated his method of folding clothes, leaving them immaculately folded. With minimal amount of wrinkles and somehow maintained in a small and compressed package, Toad felt satisfied with his work. He turned over to Mario, who was trying to replicate Toad’s folding methods.

Emphasis on ‘try’, as while his efforts was serviceable by all accounts, it paled in comparison to the Toadstools. The Plumber turned over to the smaller man, and with a vague shrug, simply dumped the folded up laundry into the basket. Toad looked over to him with a raised brow, only for Mario to yet again shrug, a derp expression in his features.

“Eh, Mario’s too lazy..... he’ll-a do it later.”

The Portly Plumber looked down at his translator Toad, shrugging with sounds of acknowledgement, signifying that he has some idea of the concept of vacuums. But he did lower his head to look at the apartment floor, a puzzled expression quickly morphed his features.

“Uhhh, but Mario can’t-a see any difference.” He retorted, scratching his capped head. Toad groaned from Mario’s ignorance, kicking him straight in the achilles. He yelped from the sudden hit, looking down to the offender with a befuddled look.

“Just look down.” Confused, the Italian complied, lowering down on all fours as his moustache twitched in puzzlement. Once lowered to the extent where his cheek was pressed against the floorboard, Mario squinted his eyes to see what Toad was on about.

Like a microscopic lens, Mario saw it. The floor was littered with dust bunnies, strains of dark hair and black particles that would make anyone nauseous from merely it’s sight. Though for the resident moustached man, his response was surprisingly more tame.

“Oh.” He simply muttered, now seeing the clear differences.

Getting up on his feet, Mario turned to Toad, who had a smug smirk that seemed to elude the message of ‘I Told You So.’

He had to hold in the sudden compulsion to Ariel Smash him in the face.

“Right, so I guess I’ll leave this part to you?” Toad smirked, waddling back a few steps back to give Mario some space. The Red Capped Italian nods, giving a thumbs up as his moustache seems to arch up, eluding to a beaming smile.

Suddenly, he seemingly summoned a strange looking vacuum cleaner from absolute nowhere. The main component encased in glossy red, appearing to be a blend of both a backpack and a motor pack; two wheels attack to the edge and a hose and vacuum nozzle attached to it.

"Uh, Mario..." Toad cautiously inquired, recognising what the device was, and dreading the implications of the idiot getting a hold of it. "... where did you get that?"

The cross eyed Plumber owlishly blinked, reverting back to his normal yet eccentric expression. "I found it up-a my ass! Don't tell Luigi..." He hushed the last part of his admittance, aiming the nozzle of the Poltegust 3000 too close for Toad's liking.

"You idiot! You shouldn't mess with that crap...!" Toad took a few steps back, grinding his teeth in frantic anticipation, his foul attitude masking his worries. Childishly rolling his eyes, Mario dismissed the Toadstool's concerns. "Don't-a be dramatic, Mario's-a got thi-"

The Poltergust started to spark uncontrollably, the strange vacuum vibrating uncontrollably within Mario's hands. Toad bit back his cuss, scowling at the moron for jinxing himself. The moron in question seemed to be more concerned with the Poltergust itself, perhaps worried of breaking it and upsetting Luigi.

So he strengthened his grip on the handle, and it seemed to stop the malfunctioning vacuum for a brief moment. But only a brief moment, as soon the vibration intensified, and now Mario was caught within the reverberation malfunction, as he was vibrating at the same time.

"M-m-m-a-m-m-a-a m-i-i-i-a-a-a..!" Mario tried to remark, his words jittering from the constant reverberation his body was undergoing. He tried to take a step back, but his foot didn't meet the ground. Instead, it just.....

..... phased through the floor.

'Mamma mia...?' He mused to himself. Bring his foot back up, his booted leg phased right back up. Slowly, he put his foot back down, only this time, his boot did meet the solid ground this time.

Before he could think much of it, the Poltergust suddenly turned on, and began to suck anything it's nozzle was brandished towards. It sucked a shoe, a fire flower, even a kitchen stool!

Eventually, the vacuum caught it sights at the short man with an abnormally large mushroom head, and Toad was helpless against the torrent of wind and air sucking him in, his curses and screams rang through the apartment as he was pulled in.

"MMMHHHHHMMMMM!!!! HHHHHMMMMMM!!!!!" The now stuck Toadstool began to thrash and squirm, his screams of frustration and anger muffled from inside the vacuum nozzle. His stumpy legs kicked and flailed, desperate to escape.

Seeing this, Mario quickly tried to pull him out, grabbing Toad by his legs and pulling as hard as he could. Toad's screams of frustration were quickly replaced with pain, as he felt his stumpy body stretching beyond comprehension.

Amidst his frantic pursuit to free Toad, his elbow accidentally pressed a switch on the Poltergust's pack.

And just like clockwork, Toad was shot out from the nozzle, promptly ejected and sent flying through the apartment hallway. A loud and comedic crashing noise reverberated through the corridor, as Mario stood there sheepishly.

Eventually, the now fuming Toadstool waddled back to the living room, both ashamed and furious at what just happened.

"..... okay, let's try it again." Mario nodded at Toad's barely contained attempt to change the subject, his face red for reasons of 'yes'.

The Plumber suddenly flops down to the floor, his nose twitching spontaneously. It then elongated cartoonishly, snaking toward the floor like a sentient hose.

The moustached man inhaled, as a loud “SNORT” erupted and echoed through the apartment. Toad instinctively took a few steps back, visibly disturbed by Mario’s haphazard actions.

In a split second, the Portly Plumber’s laid body dashed across the apartment floor, each time he zoomed past the floor, the planked floorboards were left more vibrant and clean, even glistening like diamond.

When the Plumber navigated his way through the floor, his body seemed to slither and bend like a serpent, allowing him to move more freely. The loud and obnoxious sound of rapid fire snorting followed his erratic movements.

The Italian’s nose released an exaggerated burst of snorts, sucking a while smokescreen of dust bunnies and hair strands, creating an all consuming vortex from his oversized nostrils.

Toad watched this display of cleaning with his eye twitching, completely flabbergasted at these turn of events. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the overall silliness however, but it was one of unease.

He felt awkward for some reason, just seeing Mario perform this unorthodox practice with almost possessed-like movements left him uncomfortable.

As the dust literally settled, Mario paused to admire his work. His nose was now absurdly swollen and cartoonishly round, was filled to the brim with a bizarre assortment of debris.

Toad could only gawk at the Plumber with shock and appall, unable to burn the memory off his mind.

“WT Fuck! How are you still alive right now!?” Mario looked down at the shorter Toadstool with a lopsided grin and his usual crossed eyed disposition. “Hmm? What are-a you talking about?”

Toad groaned and pointed at the Plumber’s oversized and swollen bulbous nose. “Do you not feel any pain right now?” He asked with a frustrated yet concerned huff.

“..... pffff, no problem!” Mario jovially reassured, despite the sight of his abnormal nuzzle. “Mario is feeling-a just fin-“

His words were cut off by sounds of chokes and gurgles, as Mario clasped his neck in sudden pain.

Toad stepped back, and could only watch as the Plumber spazzingly chocked on his own breath, seemingly having difficulty to breath. His gurgling finally ceased, as he flopped to the floor, both his eyes bearing the markings of an “X”.

Mario, the Moronic Maniac, laid lifeless on the floor. His abnormally blocked nose reverted back to it’s bulbous size, but an eerie stillness cloaked him like a shroud. And Toad? He just stood there, his tiny hands started to tremble, as his eyes widened in abject surprise.

“Hey fatass, you good?” Toad called out to the lifeless body, his eyes fixated upon the motionless man sprawled across the floor, like he expected him to move or something.

Toad’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder of the horror he had just witnessed. Or even just anticipating for something to happen; a breath, a twitch, or even a dumb gag, just anything!

“..... Mario?” Toads words were soft, akin to a whimper, the Plumber's body continued to lay on the floor. His eyes never left the sight. Even if he wanted to pry his vision away from it, he simply couldn't.

The initial shock and horror had left his stubby little body, now a sense of confusion replaced his concerns. He had seen Mario ‘die’ multiple times, so why did this instance feel so different?

THUMP

Toad heard it, the sound was like a heartbeat, but heavy, too heavy. Like the electrical charge of a defibrillator, almost otherworldly but still discernible to make out. He snapped his head to gaze upon the source of that sound..... only to be met with the still and lifeless corpse of the Italian Plumber.

Then, something stirred. The apartment… hell, the outside world seemed to hold its breath, any ambiance was silenced almost immediately in anticipation.

..... Mario's body twitched.

A sharp inhale cut through the silence, and Toad recoiled instinctively. The sight was grotesque, as the Italians eyes snapped open, wide and blank, unseeing yet somehow aware.

As his hands began to move, Toad’s stomach twisted. The motions were jerky and mechanical, like strings pulling at his limbs. Any form of grace was absent, as the Plumber’s body seemed to just slither itself in an upright position.

Toad’s mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat as he watched Mario’s body bend and contort like an action figure, how his arms dangled from his bulbous torso as he stood rigid, and most importantly..... how unnervingly fluid his movements have become.

It was like his joints were made of water.

His mouth curled into a smile that didn’t match his eyes. His blue, shimmering, yet hollow eyes, unmatched by his small yet beaming smile underneath his nose fuzz.

A chilling wave swept through the two, as Toad felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, if he even had hair.

Mario’s expression didn’t change, and it disturbed him to no end. He could only meet Mario’s sudden disposition with a blank look of shock and a glimmer of fear.

Mario’s wide and near ethereal gaze was pried away by him blinking. Once his eyelids kissed the rims of his sockets, the shimmer and shine of Mario’s blue irises faded, and his expression grew softer and natural. Mario had reverted back to normal.

". . . . ."

“Oh, Hello Little Toady.” Mario cheerfully greeted, giving a short wave to the small Toadstool.

Meanwhile, Toad was left speechless, his re-emerging shock only marked by his wide eyed irritation, born and lit ablaze from how nonchalantly Mario was taking this whole ordeal, like he didn’t just die a few moments ago.

“... h-h-hey Mario...” The Toadstool stammered, his initial gob-smack slowly dimmed as his eyes continued to blink repeatedly and rapidly. A brief yet awkward silence filled the air, a seemingly one sided tension that grew more palpable the more Mario stared at the sweating Toad.

Clearing his throat, Toad’s raspy and squeaky voice spoke up, desperate to change the subject. “R-right,” Toad whipped up the ‘Chores List’, “well, the last thing you need to need to do is mop the apartmen-“

“LET’S-A GO!!!!!”

Immediately, Toad’s eyes widen in astonishment and concern as Mario suddenly equipped himself with a whimsically crafted water device on his back. A sleek, white body with a large blue tank on its back. Long, pointed nozzle extended from the front, giving it a jet-like appearance.

Mario had put on the F.L.U.D.D, and judging by his sudden wide eyed and grinning face, he was gonna do something stupid! Toad rushed over to the Moronic Maniac, ushering him to stop. “Wait wait wait wai-“

Outside the apartment complex, the residence of Bloopersville were trekking through the town square. Recolors of various color schemes walked passed the apartment building, nonchalant and cooperative with their day. When suddenly.....

SPLASH!!

With a violent crash, a glass window from the second floor of the apartment shattered, scattering shards like stars against the concrete. The Recolors and Koopas passing by recoiled in shock from the sudden sound, swatting down as if a bomb was to drop on Bloopersville.

Water began to erupted from the broken window, gushing in a cascade that glimmered from the flowing shards that followed. It poured over the edge like a waterfall, drenching the pavement below and soaking the flowerbeds lining the building. The flow was relentless, a torrent of clear liquid that transformed the mundane street into a shimmering, chaotic river.

Meanwhile inside the exploding apartment, Mario and Toad stood in the middle of the living room, frozen in initial shock at what just happened. The floor was drenched in thin water, droplets trinkling down the F.L.U.D.D’s nozzle, each drop reverberating as the only sound within the silence.

“.... well, guess you don’t have to worry bout cleaning the windows.” Toad remarked. Mario stood silent in the middle of the room, the F.L.U.D.D still strapped on his back, droplets of freshy squirted water dripped from it's nozzle.

“MAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.....” Mario was now panicking, dashing around the living room like a whirlwind. Eyes wide and bulging from his sockets, arms flailing around as he zigzagged across the room and around Toad.

And in a burst of adrenaline fueled panic, the Portly Plumber dove towards the front door, crashing through it as it snapped in half like a twig. From aside, Toad let out a frustrated groan as he dejectedly trailed behind the fretting Italian.

"Here we go~", the Toadstool snarked with an overexaggerated imitation of Mario's own Italian accent.

What followed next was a chaotic whirlwind of frantic assembly and panic inducing construction, as Mario and Toad tried to clean up and rebuild the remnants of FM & X's apartment.

Mario seemed to be trying to use the Poltergust to suck the semi flooded floors, with some to little amount of success. He was vigorous with his attempts, practically shoving the vacuum around, dragging and scraping the nozzle across the floor boards.

Toad was picking up the shattered glass off the floor. Even though he was leisurely with his task, the Toadstool couldn't help but flinch and scowl every time he haphazardly grabbed each broken shard, cutting himself from a simple hold. "Ah, shit!" He snarked, bringing his cut finger to his mouth with a frown.

Next up, Mario picked up the broken debris and remains of the F.L.U.D.D nuking in a comically tall pile of sharp and scrap. With haste and worry, he quickly stumbled across the apartment, trying to balance the pile of rubbish in his arms.

Toad was currently screaming in frustration as he was hammering a semi rebuilt window frame furiously with a hammer. His shrieking yells fueling his progress, as his strikes became harder and faster.

It was safe to say that .....

"MAAAAAAAAAAA......."

"FUUUUUUUCCCC......"

..... this is a cluster fuck. A very common cluster fuck,

『Some Time Later』

“Look, ye know I cannot condone yer behavior towards my methods X.” FM and X were walking through the hallways of the apartment level they resided in, seemingly engaging in a debate of sorts. “I get yer concerns, and I share ‘em too laddie. But it’s gotta be done.” They stopped at their apartment door, with FM just finishing his statement.

“But i-it doesn’t feel right though.” X spoke up, his usual unamused expression seemingly replaced with a more pensive disposition while talking to FM. “And you know it too, and I’m starting to think he’s truly responsible for it.”

“But ye didn’t stop him.” The air between the two suddenly grew stiff, the silence and tension began to inflate until it became palpable. FM sighed, “and neither did I, so I suppose we do what we need to do now.” And without another word, the crimson eyed man turned the knob as he opened the door wide open.

They were greeted with the apartment looking spic and span, surprisingly. The floor looked freshly mopped, with no signs of dust or hair strands in sight. The windows looked pristinely wiped, almost like they were brand new. Even the walls somehow looked clean, it was unknown why but there was no complains made.

And Mario, the man of the hour, was standing in the middle of the living room, accompanied by Toad of all people. There were sweating bullets when FM & X greeted them. “Toad? What are you doing here?” X inquired, curious to the foul mouthed midget’s presence. Toad shrugged in response, trying to appear nonchalant.

Suddenly, a part of the ceiling had collapsed, crashing into Toad from above, Mario flinched as it happened, shouting is signature “Mamma Mia!” All of a sudden, a good chunk of the wall had flopped, the glue used to hold it in place had given in to the strain.

As the piece of the wall fell off, random clutter and pieces of glass, floorboards, and dirty clothes had tumbled down from the hole. FM and X stared blankly at the transpiring events, silently face palming themselves mentally, or other thoughts…

". . . . ."

“Uhhhhh.....” Mario nervously shuffled from his spot, standing in front of the abrupt cluttered and disheveled destructions of the apartment. Quickly, he immediately shifted the blame. “Toad did it!”

“OH SCREW YOU YA SON OF A BIT-“

Chapter Text

It was a bright and idyllic morning in the Showgrounds, the bright sun illuminating the beige roads and untrimmed greenery of grass. The tents, colorful and in variety, stood tall admits the tame heat, like a mirage on the humid mundanity.

But standing tall compared to all other tents stood the SMG4 Castle, a tall and wide piece of infrastructure, a conglomerate amalgamation between a royal castle and a extravagant circus tent. Stripped in various shades of blue and adorned in gold, it stood out amongst the littered lands of the Showgrounds.

And inside the circus palace, Mario was spinning around in a pile of spaghetti plates. Naked.

Despite his bare frame, it felt natural to the moustached man. Like taking a warm bath, except the water was thick, sticky, and smelled of marinara sauce. He dove beneath the surface, strands of pasta curling around his limbs as he swam deeper into the endless sea of noodles.

"Weeeee...~" He blissfully cheered, surfacing with a splash of tomato sauce. His legs propped up in a high V, as he spun around like a propeller with his mouth gaping wide in a angular smile. "That-a make so happy!"

Suddenly, the castle door flew open with a crash. Startled, the naked Italian tumbled from his pasta emporium, landed on the ground in a sprawling mess. "Hey, what's the big idea?" Mario complained, slowly draping his shirt and overalls over his body as he slowly rose to meet SMG4. "I was having my spaghetti hour."

“No time for spaghetti!” SMG4 announced, slamming the laptop onto the table with a loud thud. “You HAVE to see this meme!”

Mario brightened immediately, hopping off the couch. “Ooh! Is it-a funny? Does it have-a spaghetti?”

“It’s better than spaghetti!” SMG4 said, his grin somehow widening. “Come on, come on, look!”

Mario leaned in as SMG4 hit play. The screen lit up with a grainy video of a rubber chicken being squeezed repeatedly to the tune of Megalovania.

At first, Mario erupted into laughter, clutching his sides and nearly doubling over. “Ha ha! Rubber chickens! That’s-a so funny! I love this!”

SMG4 slapped Mario on the back, joining him in uproarious laughter that bounced off the castle walls. “I KNOW, right? Wait, there’s more!”

The video transitioned to a low-quality clip of a dog wearing sunglasses, interspersed with explosions and poorly edited text that read: “EPIC DOGE.” Mario wheezed, pointing at the screen with tears in his eyes. “Epic! Ha ha! That dog is so epic!”

But as the memes kept coming; each one more absurd, more nonsensical, Mario’s laughter began to falter. A compilation of distorted audio clips played next, accompanied by flashing lights and looping images of a smiling cartoon face. The pitch of the sounds rose and fell erratically, worming into his brain like an ear-splitting siren.

“Eh...” Mario scratched the back of his head, his grin twitching slightly. “That’s-a weird, huh? Maybe a little too much?” SMG4 didn't seem to notice Mario's doubt, as he continued to howl in laughter. The video looped again, and SMG4’s laughter grew louder, echoing unnaturally in the room.

Mario tried to join in, forcing another weak laugh, but his discomfort was palpable now. The air felt heavy, like the walls of the castle were closing in on him.

He glanced at SMG4 again and froze. SMG4 wasn’t laughing anymore. He was just staring at Mario, his head cocked at an unnatural angle. His grin hadn’t changed, but something was wrong. The sparkle of humor in his eyes was gone, replaced by a hollow, vacant gleam.

“Uh… SMG4?” Mario’s voice wavered.

SMG4 didn’t respond. Instead, his body began to twitch violently. His head jerked to the side with a sickening crack, his neck bending at an unnatural angle. Mario stumbled back, his breath hitching.

The blue of SMG4's cap and shirt started to peel away, unraveling like fabric being torn apart. Beneath it, a vivid red material emerged, it's texture bore a fabric-like surface but it felt unnatural. It felt artificial. His gloved hands swelled grotesquely before splitting open, revealing elongated fingers that curled unnervingly like claws.

The sound was unbearable. Flesh tearing, bones grinding, joints popping one by one as his torso stretched upward; his ribcage visibly distorting as if being yanked upward by invisible strings. His legs snapped grotesquely into place, becoming spindly and disproportionate, the striped patterns of his new form emerging from nowhere.

His skin bubbling and twisting like molten wax as his head collapsed inwards. And his eyes, those terrible bulbous eyes, bulged out further as buck teeth, too white and too perfect, emerged behind thin, rubbery lips. The thing in front of him was no longer SMG4, it was something else entirely. The Red Rabbit now stood in SMG4’s place, its hollow gaze drilling into Mario’s very soul.

“Stay with me, Mario...” The Red Rabbit said in a voice that was eerily too similar to SMG4's obnoxious voice, but it was different. It was unfiltered. It was raw.

Mario stumbled backward, his legs giving out as he fell onto the couch. “No, no, no, no!” His voice teared out, his voice trembling as he scrambled away. The Red Rabbit advanced, its elongated limbs creaking with each step.

". . . . ."

"Nah!" He shrugged his shoulders with complete dismissal. And without another thought, he spung up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom just by the small hallway.

The bathroom in FM and X's apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the overhead light and the occasional drip of the faucet. Mario sat on the toilet, humming a nonsensical tune to himself. His legs swung idly beneath him, his gloved hands gripping his knees as he waited for the usual sounds of nature to signal his time was up.

Once he finished his business, Mario stood up, flushed, and moved to the sink, his gloved hands reaching for the faucet. The cold water gushed out, splashing against the porcelain, and Mario plunged his hands beneath it, humming a catchy tune as the water soaked into the white leather that encased his hands. It didn’t feel strange to him. It never had.

"You know you-a wearing gloves, right?"

A faint and familiar sound of a voice caught his attention from his scrubbing. The Italian raised his head up, his wide blue eyes locking onto the mirror. For a moment, he thought he must’ve imagined it. His reflection was staring back at him. Well, more like he was side eying the plumbers gloved hands being doused in tap-water with a raised brow of mild distain.

“... are you-a talking to me?” Mario muttered, his gloved fingers freezing mid-scrub. "Again?"

“Yeah.” His reflection replied, rolling its eyes. “And you’re-a washing your gloves. Again.”

Mario blinked for a moment, registering what his reflection was saying. He stared down and saw that he was indeed washing his gloved hand, feeling them grow damp and heavy from the dousing, practically clinging to his hands. But then he shrugged, returning his attention to the running water.

“Eh, it’s normal. Gloves get dirty too, y’know.” He scrubbed a little harder, as if to make his point.

Mirror Mario rolled his eyes, as if it's use to Mario's oblivious nonchalance. "Is it though? Is it-a really?" The reflection asked. Mario frowned in response, the lines around his eyes tightening. He glanced up at the mirror again, his reflection now leaning forward, its eyes sharp and questioning.

“What do you-a mean by that?” The plumber said, his curiosity overpowered by a defensive tone.

“C’mon, Mario.” The plumber's reflection leaned toward him, it's body moving in perfect sync with his own, with a significant delay as it leaned a few seconds after Mario did. It's accusatory expression remained in stark contrast with the Italian's defensive disposition. “Think about it. You’ve been washing gloves. Every day. For years. That doesn’t strike you as... odd?”

Mario's frown deepened, his blue eyes narrowed at his reflective counterpart's similarly colored pupils. But his stare melted to curiosity, as he stared down again at his gloved hands, damp and skin tight from the water. He pondered on this for a moment, staring at his palms, the fabric becoming see through from the water, revealing his skin. 

..... his skin? The same skin he shares with the Reco-

Mario quickly dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. “Pfft, nah. You’re just-a overthinking. It’s fine.” He tired to laugh it off with a jovial chuckle, but there was a sliver of doubt within his eyes. 

Mirror Mario’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them turning sharper. “You’ve told yourself that for years.” It softly said, the words cutting like a knife through the Italian like butter. 

Those words lingered in the air, heavy and oppressive. The ambiance only filled with the sound of the running water seemingly forgotten by the Italian. Mario’s hands trembled slightly under the running water, the soap long since rinsed away, dripping from his gloves into the basin sink. His reflection leaned closer, his face almost pressed against the other side of the glass.

"Do you-a remember then?" The bathroom reflection asked, tilting it's head and raising it's brow again. 

Mario blinked, caught off guard from his reflection's question. His hands stilled under the water, the clammy sweat overpowered by the faucet. Mario opened his mouth, but no words came out from underneath his flavor saver. His expression slowly began to scrunch up, deep in conflicted thought on what the reflection was even asking. 

"Okie dokie..." Mirror Mario seemed to be deep in thought on reiterating his question. "How about this, what do you-a remember before SMG4 came here?"

"Easy!" The plumber scoffed. "I was..." His eyes slightly widen before narrowing in quick succession, as if he was concentrating on a thought. “I... was... uh...” He began to stammer, his wide blue eyes darted back to the reflection. Its expression didn’t change, but its gaze bore into him, unblinking. “I-a remember... uh...”

He felt a prickle at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Didn’t want to think about it. Everything was normal. Everything had always been normal. But his reflection didn’t move. It just stared, waiting, watching.

Mario paused, catching a glimpse of a thought within the crevice of his mind. "I was with-a Peach, and were watching the sunset. And then..." His confidence dwindled, as the memory he thought he had was incomplete. He continued to stutter and stammer with his responses, all the while his reflection kept staring at him like an unresponsive model. 

"..... i can't-a remember."

Mario's whisper was barely audible, a trickle of sound from the underlayers of his bushy moustache. But it spoke heavy volumes to both of them. "But, those were meant to be Mario's memories..." He quietly muttered, realisation dawning on him like a bat from hell. "So if I don't-a have those recollected thoughts... then am I not-a Mario?"

The reflection smiled. Not a cruel smile, but a knowing one, tinged with pity.

Mario blinked, his chest heaving as he realised it was smiling at him, the sharpness in the eyes faded. It was just his reflection now, staring back at him with the same tired, confused expression he wore. The plumber reached out with a trembling hand and turned off the faucet, the rushing water dying into silence.

His reflection did the same.

Mario stared at it, his blue eyes wide and searching. He leaned closer, tilting his head this way and that, but the reflection didn’t move beyond what it should, simply mirroring his actions and expression. 

Somehow, that was more disturbing, staring at his own face, felt like staring at someone else's. 

“I... It's-a me...” He suddenly whispered, but the words felt hollow, uncertain. He didn't know why he needed to confirm his own name, but he felt like he needed to. 

"It's-a me..."

Mario needed some fresh air, maybe he was just going a little bit cuco crazy at the moment. He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the door of the apartment. After traversing down the hallways and coming down from the elevator, a cool breeze blew towards his face the moment he stepped out of the apartment building.

There were plenty of Recolors just walking idly by and some simply chatting. It was a normal day in Bloopersville, but Mario couldn't keep the prickling feeling from reaching up his neck. Just seeing all of these people now made him feel uncomfortable, it was like looking into a mirro-

"No, we are not-a doing this again." The Italian harshly hissed to himself, earning some weirded looks by other Recolors passing by. Ignoring their stares, he thought maybe he need a simple sit down and relax his sexy Italian body.

Finding a small clearing by the granite tiles, the Plumber lowered himself into the rough surface and sat himself on the curb. It felt uncomfortable to sit on, it's thin edge sat awkwardly against his cheeks. But Mario didn't care at this point, feeling relieved he found a place to sit down for a moment.

But another wrinkle seemed to emerge within his pondering state; who even was he? 

Well, he was Mario. That would have been the obvious answer, but his brief conversation with MM made the Plumber reconsider his evaluation. "I mean, his name is literally MarioMaker." He pointed out to himself, a morose expression filled his moustached face.

How can this totally different and distinct person had the exact same appearance as him and has his damn name!

Mario looks down at his own hand, his palm encased in a layer of porcelain white fabric. He then glanced at a random Recolor walking past him, and spotted his own gloved hand. He began to contemplate this, how they all shared the exact same proportions and articles of clothing; he obviously knew about this, so why did it disturb him now?

Why is Mario so fixated with this fact with a nuanced perspective?

What made Mario different from everyone else?

『Meanwhile』

“Now physically speaking, your freund is un perfect kondition.” A man in a thick German accent informed two individuals in his medical office. A middle aged fellow who was taller and more anatomically proportionate than the two stumpy men. Dressed in a long, faded baby blue doctor’s coat and blue rubber gloves, it was clear the man was a man of medicine, or somewhat related to medicine.

The doctor adjusted his round glasses as he paced around his office. “I ain't concerned about his body, doc.” FM spoke up, sitting beside X across the room from the doctor. “He....” He trailed for a moment, not sure how to properly phrase it. “… still suffer from these shifts in behavior.”

The doctor hummed as he stretched his rubber gloves to his hands. “It’s not uncommon fur someone with a kondition like his.” He mused nonchalantly, despite knowing the severity of the subject matter. “Undt, how frequent are these lapses?”

"It's hard to say, he....." A high pitched drilling noise interrupted FM's response, squelching sounds followed, making FM grimace with discomfort. "You know Doc, we could always come back later if this is not a good time." He wearily suggested, a bit squemish by the doctor's "medicine" practices.

“Ooh, don’t vorry mein friend.” The doctor tried to reassure him, though the freshly coated surgical drill didn’t offer much consultation. “It’s just un standard procedure. Kontinue.”

FM stared at the “patient” at the operating table for a good moment, before resuming his response. “Well, Mario will be fine one minute... well, relatively fine. Then, seemingly at random he will..." He paused for a moment, searching for a proper phrasing. "... you know, lose it."

"There isn't much of a pattern with this behavioral shifts. And with what happened two days ago..." The memory of the apartment with Mario unsupervised flashed in the crimson eyed man's mind. "... there has to be another method we could try."

Hearing the shaved blonde dilemma, the doctor cleared his throat. “You see, ze cognitive cortex is an organ. Like any other part of ze body, it vill repair itself. To a point.” He explained, though there was some hesitance delivered with that concluding note. “Vhat that point is, only time vill tell.”

"Bloody fantastic..." FM grumbled. "So you're saying it'll heal overtime?" X spoke up with a lingering hopeful tone, FM leaned back in his seat, still rigid in posture. In response to this, the doctor abruptly burst out laughing, tears threatening to spill from his eyelids.

"Hahahaha!... Vell, no." The doctor managed to calm down. "Maybe? It's hard to tell right now. Nothing like this has been ever recorded, so the variables may or may not line up with the diagnosis." He explained while placing an organ onto the tray of surgical tools, making a wet sloshing noise when discarded like a wet towel.

X grumbled under his breath, displeased with the response. "Well that's just peachy..." He mused, crossing his arms from his chair.

After a brief moment of silence, the doctor paused for a moment, slowly turning to the duo with an alarmed expression. "Und, I vill take it you schtill have not told him. Ja?"

". . . . ."

The office grew silent, as the doctor’s words hung heavy in the air, solid and palpable.

Coughing behind his magenta gloved fist, FM spoke up. "I wil-" FM corrected himself, noticing X glancing at him. "We will tell him, just not now." X kept a wearily gaze upon his friend, as if he is doubting his claims.

The doctor hummed in response, dropping an organ on the gurney. The wet splosh made X squirm from his seat, while FM retainted his steel gaze upon the "medicine" man. "For mein patience, I prefer to lay everything down on ze table." FM looked over to said table with a grimace. "..... I can see that." He turned back to the doctor.

"Mario is... special. And by this point I think that specialness was what made him so... strong." FM looked down for a moment, as a small yet present fondness glittered his eyes. "Every time he got hurt, he would bounce back up without a care. It was like he didn't even notice it at all." That fond melancholy was quickly dulled and voided, as he pondered on his next words.

"If we tell him that he's... broken..." FM paused again, the word lingering in the air. "It's better this way! I think... argh, bloody hell I don't know!"

"Vell it is quite the conundrum you gotten yourselves into." The doctor replied with a smile, "can't say I'm envious."

"..... thanks." X dryly remarked.

『Later』

The trip back to Bloopersville was silent one, the only sound that came from the duo was their footsteps reverberating besides each other, creating an audible train of steps. The sounds went from the soft an crinkled sounds of the green grassy plains, to the more solid and echo inducing steps of stone as they came through the main entrance of the town, arriving at the Town Square.

“So... when are you gonna do it?” X piped up, stopping in his tracks.

FM pacing stopped, as he turned to his friend with his usual stern expression. X has been like this since they left the hospital, being pensive about the whole situation with Mario. FM took a deep breath. "Soon laddie." He replied, hoping that would reassure him.

.....it didn't.

X furrowed his brows and his stubbled lips tightened to a straight line. "You said that last week, and the week before that." FM sighed again under his teeth as X calls him out of his stalling. "You keep making up excuses for the guy, but Mario's gonna have to know soon." X argued, his voice raised slightly.

FM's stoicism didn't falter, as he narrowed his red eyes at X's wavering grey one's. "Look, we will tell him..... but like the doc said, we need to be careful with it." X didn't seemed so convinced however, as he stepped forward to challenge his friend's excuse. "I can't help but feel like you're just gonna coddle him. He's not a child dude."

This seemed to soften FM's stern disposition, as he silently agreed with X's logic. "I know laddie, but it is Mario." The duo seemed to have come to a silent understanding of their current predicament, but still held different methods to approach it. Their quiet debate was soon halted by an unexpected third party.

"Hey, Chucklenuts!"

A narly and high pitched voice called out to the duo. Turning around cautiously, they visibly relaxed as soon as they saw that it was only Toad. But something was off about him, he seemed more serious; his brows were furrowed, intensifying his focused glare at the two. His mouth was twisted into a displeased frown, and even his posture was more rigid than usual.

"We need to talk!" The Toadstool demanded, his expression remained stern and serious. FM and X shared a confused glance with each other, unsure of what Toad was referring to. "Talk about what?" X inquired, only for the shorter man to waltz forward, his demeanor remained absolute.

Tilting his head up high to meet their gaze, the Toadstool addressed them with a knowing glare. "There is something up with Mario." This caught the two off guard by his declaration for a moment. "And you are going to tell me."

Mario strolled through the tiled walkway across the Town Square, hands stuffed into the deep pockets of his overalls. The now vibrant ambiance of the afternoon of the world buzzed around him; the Recolor Residences darting about, objects inexplicably floating in the air, and the occasional explosion in the distance that no one seemed to notice. It was background noise to him, a tapestry of absurdity he no longer questioned.

But out of the corner of the plumber's eye, Mario noticed something strange in the alleyway to his left. A figure. Tall and lanky, its outline stark against the shadows. His steps faltered, his body freezing mid-stride. Slowly, he turned his gaze, his gaze snapping to an alleyway tucked between two squat buildings.

“WOAH!” Mario yelped, stumbling back a step, his gloved hands shooting up in surprise.

The figure stood just beyond the threshold of the alley, half-illuminated by a single, sickly-yellow streetlight. It was tall, its limbs lanky and angular. Its crimson skin glowed faintly under the dim light, almost as if it absorbed the warmth of the world around it. Its head was bulbous and cartoonish, crowned by two long, floppy ears that hung at uneven angles.

Despite it's normal appearance, in terms of residence in this mad world, it was it's eyes that caught Mario's eyes. Two stark, white orbs with tiny black pupils, pointed directly at him. Staring. Those pupils were black and hollow, like two endless pits of nothingness.

They stared at him, unblinking, unwavering.

Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity zapping his brain, Mario remembered where he'd seen this Sesame Street reject before. He knew he caught a glimpse of this red rabbit back at the camping trip he took with FM, X and Toad. But the most disturbing of all, he had a dream about that googly eyed freak just recently. 

"Mamma mia, you scared me." The plumber breathed out, having gotten some clarity. Having taken a few deep breaths, he scoffed as he flicked his hands in a 'shoo' motion. "Alrighty, get outta here you-a Sesame Street reject!" The Italian chuckled, but the sound faltered to a weak cackle his throat.

The thing wasn’t moving. It stood there, perfectly still, staring straight at him. The red rabbit didn’t answer. It's white, unblinking eyes were fixed on him, two hollow circles with pinprick pupils that seemed too small for their sockets. Mario’s weak grin faded.

“Hey, uh... I’m-a talking to you.” The plumber's voice wavered slightly, and he swallowed hard. He waved a gloved hand in front of himself like a shield, as though that could block the intensity of its stare. 

Still nothing.

The air around him felt heavier now, colder. The Rabbit’s presence wasn’t just odd, it was wrong. In a way Mario couldn’t quite put into words. His gaze drifted to its clothes; a black-and-white striped sweater that hung loosely on its gangly frame, its fabric rippling slightly in the faint alley breeze. Mario’s bravado began to crack. His shoulders stiffened, and his moustache twitched involuntarily as a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. 

But its eyes, they didn’t flinch. They didn’t waver. It just... stared.

Mario took a step back, then another. His boots scuffed against the uneven stones of the alley, the sound unnervingly loud in the eerie silence. It was watching him, and the more it stared, the less sure he felt about where he stood.

He spun around and grabbed the first person he saw; a stocky, moustached figure wearing a lime green cap and black overalls. “Hey, mama-fucker!” Mario exclaimed, gaining the Recolors attention with his screeching. “You see-a this crap?!" He yelled, jabbing his finger toward the shadowy figure.

The pedestrian, AlexAlex700 frowned, his identical eyes narrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Greenex asked, intently staring at the alleyway Mario was pointing at. Mario's face scrunched up in confusion, whipping his head back toward the alleyway, his pulse racing. The Rabbit was gone.

The alley was empty, save for a few crumpled boxes and a stray plastic bag skittering across the ground. The sickly glow of the streetlamp illuminated... nothing.

"Dude, you need help." Greenex scoffed, brushing off his shoulder where Mario had grabbed him. "Now get away from me.” 

The words stung more than Mario wanted to admit. He turned toward the man, his expressive blue eyes narrowing with indignation. “I’m not-a crazy!” He barked, pointing a gloved finger at him. But the Recolor was already walking away, muttering something under his breath about “weirdos.” Mario’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, his irritation bubbling up again. The resemblance between them, it was uncanny.

'Is he Mario?' The plumber didn’t voice the thought, but it gnawed at him. He turned back toward the alleyway, his confidence shaken. The empty space seemed to mock him, the dim light casting strange shadows on the walls. Slumping his shoulders, and he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t want to admit it; not to himself, not to anyone. 

Mario began to walk away, but he felt the rabbit's gaze lingered, burrowing deep into his mind. Even when he reached the crowded main square, the weight of those hollow eyes followed him, unblinking and unshakable. 

₥₳Ɽł𝟬

"Alrighty, that is it!" Mario’s boots clomped heavily against the tiled pavement, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow as he searched for any sign of that damned Rabbit. His movements were frantic, yet his muttered thoughts were loud enough for anyone nearby to overhear.

“C’mon, Mario. You’re not-a crazy. You saw it. You’re not just-a seeing things!” He glanced down an alley, then quickly whipped his head back toward the square. “Right? I’m-a not crazy. Definitely not. Definitely definitely not.” He made his way to Town Square, where a gaggle of adolescent Koopas ran screaming after oddly sentient frisbees, a group of Recolors were having a picnic under a tree, and Cube the Penguin was arguing with a fat ginger cat that looked very familiar. 

Mario didn’t care about any of it. He cupped his hands around his mouth.

“HEY! WHERE-A YOU HIDIN’, YOU LITTLE SHIT!?”

People turned to stare. A few whispered. One Toad Recolor actually burst into laughter. Mario stomped through the park, peering behind bushes, climbing up trees, and even dunking his head into a  random fountain. By the time he climbed out, sopping wet and with a goldfish inexplicably flopping in his cap, his temper was simmering.

But suddenly, he froze on the spot, his posture went rigid. Because right there, just behind a playground structure, was the Red Rabbit.

Its tall, lanky frame was unmistakable. It stood still as a statue, its wide and hollow eyes bulged unnaturally on its face. Droplets of sweat dribbled from his nose as his eyes locked onto the Rabbit’s. For a moment, time seemed to stop. The cacophony of the park faded into the background, leaving only the faint sound of Mario’s heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Mamma-mia...” He whispered, his voice barely audible. Quickly, he bolted toward it, his boots skidding on the grass as he rounded the playground equipment. But by the time he reached the spot, the Rabbit was gone.

All that remained was an overturned tricycle and an empty juice box.

“Mama fucker!” Mario yelled, kicking the tricycle and juice box in frustration. It landed with a pathetic plop in the fountain.

A nearby kid, a Koopa with a blue shell, tugged on his mom’s arm.  “Is that man okay?” He whispered in an innocent tone. His mother, a more older Koopa with a pink shell pulled the kid closer as shuffled away from the manic plumber. “Just don’t stare, honey.”

Mario's breaths were shallow and haggard, as his turquoise eyes shrunk more and more they darted across the Town Square. It could be anywhere, and nobody would be none the wiser. 

₥₳Ɽł𝟬

The Italian made an unnatural growl behind his gritted teeth, adjusting his red cap that laid slightly askewed on top of his head. "I'm-a gonna get you..." He growled, eyes darting to the side, not noticing his jaw was protruding to a sharp angle. 

『Later』

"... holy shit."

That was all Toad could mutter, his small frame slumping down into the leather fabric of the booth's seat. His beady eyes were as wide as they could physically get, as he rubbed circles his stem temple with his stumpy fingers. "And to think I- we've been... oh my god."

FM and X shared a worried glance with each other, as they watched Toad seemingly still reeling from the information they shared with the Toadstool. "Look laddie." FM spoke up, unfolding his arms to rest them against the glass table. "I know how this looks, but I assure you we have this handled." FM steadily tired to explain.

"Handled? Handled?!" Toad couldn't help but laugh. "I just saw the idiot come to life like some Frankenstein's Monster! I don't think you've 'handled' anything!" He paused to let out a shallow breath, rising up to stand on his seat and face the two eye to eye. "Why don't you just tell him?"

FM sighed, but gave a reluctant nod. "It's not that easy..." Toad raised his brow, not buying into the shaved blondes response. "Mario is... special. And sometimes he doesn't understand things, simple or complex. We're just worried that... that he'll... that he may-"

"His conditioning could get worse if we tell him." X interjected, his lips pressed tight in his stubbled face. 

The Toadstool paused, glancing at X from his response. Then he looked at FM, who still kept his crimson steely gaze upon the smaller man. "You really think that's gonna make things better?" Toad spoke up, his brow still furrowed with hostility, but there was an underlining concern present within his tone.

FM and X looked towards the doubting Toadstool, each varying in expressive responses. "....." X refused to answer, instead casting a glance to his more straight laced companion before scoffing and turning his gaze to the concrete wall beside him. FM however, blinked for a few moments. 

"... I-"

Suddenly, the Italian in question just burst through the front entrance of the pub, practically knocking the doors off it's hinges as he shoulder dived towards it. This caught the many glances of the Nintendont patrons, as they stared at Mario with shock, confusion, irritation, and some levels of concern.

MM was the first to stand up from his stool, marching his way towards the sprawled out plumber who was face planting the tiled floors. "Bro, what the hell?" The yellow Recolor demanded. "I just had six pints for this kind of crap-"

Mario quickly silenced MM's oncoming rant, springing up back to his feet with a manic expression and a fully loaded shotgun. The color drained from MM's jaundice face as the plumber racked the firearm, a buckshot shell flying out. 

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY-" BLAM!!!

MM barely leaped out of the way as the shotgun pellets flew directly towards where he previously was, crashing to the side in a damp of sweat. The patrons stared at where MM had landed, before their gaze slowly trailed towards the plumber with the 12 Gauge in his white gloved hands. His eyes were wide with madness, turquoise pupils shrunken to the size of vibrating marbles and gritted teeth barely covered by his prominent nose fuzz.

The pub was silent, tension running high as every patron froze on their spots, eyeing the boom-stick in the Idiotic Italian's hands. Beads of sweat dripped from Mario's forehead, his manic eyes darting across the pub with eccentric vigilance. Until from the corner of his eyes, he spotted a pair of red rabbit ears in one of the presumably empty booths.

BLAM!!!

“Son of a Bitch!” ADD shrieked, as the back of the booth's seat exploded in a puff of concrete debris and dust. The neon green Recolor and some others who were sitting in the booth in front of it scrambled off their seats, away from the recently charred hole left.

BLAM!!! BLAM!!! BLAM!!!

Once Mario started blasting, the patrons began to scatter like headless chickens. Some ducked under their booths to avoid the flying buckshot's, some got on the ground and ducked their heads, but most simply began running and screaming with bulging eyes and flailing arms within the haze of the blinding muzzle flashes and the herald of a concussive boom.

“What the hell is going on?!” Toad squeaked in between his teeth, ducking his small frame from his seat. X was just as panicked, gritting his teeth as he lowered his head to avoid the shotgun blasts. All the while, the more composed FM shrugged, just as confused, but with a faint sense of concern. 

"It hasn't gotten this bad yet, right...?" The shaved blonde muttered under his breath, gaining the attention of both Toad and X as they turned to see him furrow his brows as his lips frowned in a grimace. His crimson eyes steeled to a focused gaze, as he rose from his seat to peer at their Italian friend, still flailing his weapon around the pub. Once he caught a good look at Mario's expression, FM raised his brow in surprise at him in a state of manic madness, but also..... distress?

BLAM!!!

FM quickly ducked back to his cover as soon as he saw the bright flash of gunpowder. “Jesus!” X shrieked, flinching as he heard the loud boom ring across the Ninendont Club. “What is it now?!” Toad demanded, still cowering within his spot on the leather seat. The still composed FM was just as baffled, crouching down to meet his companions in the eyes.

“I think it's gotten worse." That was his only response, but it weighed heavy on the three, especially after the discussion they had earlier. The loud concussive boom snapped them out of their momentary stupor, as a nearby bottle was caught in the crossfires, shattering into tiny shards. "Really, that bad that quick?” X wasn’t convinced, refusing to believe it could have gotten this out of hand so soon.

"You can't-a hide you dumb rabbit!” An Italian accent called out from the apartment, gaining the Recolors and Toad trio's attention. His voice didn’t hold confidence, like he was scared, desperate to ward 'something' off. This confused not only them, but some other Recolors in the shot up pub.

A Red Rabbit?

There were only Recolors and Toads in the Nintendont Club at Happy Hour, none of them have seem a red rabbit in the pub. This seemed to only solidify FM’s theory on Mario’s having psychotic break. “Bloody hell, look’s like it’s getting worse.” He remarked to two, who was still in the same spot they were before. “We need to stop this, now.”

BLAM!!!

Even though the blast wasn’t near Toad's vicinity, he still ducked out of the way. “Easier said than done!” He snapped back, not willing to enter no man’s land. He then turned his attention to X. "Maybe you should tell him before he does something completely reckless." The Toadstool suggested through gritted teeth. 

X turned back to the shotgun wielding plumber, peering up from the concrete base of the stool. "There is nothing else he could do to make the situation worse." A shotgun blast went off, blowing up a corner of the booth they were seated at, the sharp end exploding in a puff of concrete debris. X blinked, eyes wide from the initial shot.

"I stand corrected." 

Without hesitation, FM leaped forward from his seat over the other booths. His frame moved with a precise efficiency, boots landing with practiced ease as he made a beeline toward the manic Mario. The shaved blonde man lunged for the shotgun, locking his purple gloved hands around the barrel before Mario could fire another round.

Mario froze mid-madness, his eyes wide and frantic, darting between FM and the shotgun. FM's expression was stern, unflinching, a silent reprimand laced in his piercing red gaze.

"Let-a go." Mario snarled, his voice uneven, almost childlike in its indignation. He jerked the shotgun toward his chest.

"No, you let go." FM grunted back, his voice calm but with a steel edge. His gloved hands pulled the weapon back firmly, a near-unshakable counter to Mario’s erratic strength.

Mario yanked, FM yanked harder. 

The other patrons, some still trembling from the shootout, sweatdropped as they watched the usually stoic FM and the manic dumbass Mario devolve into a tug-of-war, as they try to wrestle the shotgun away from each other. Mario’s face flushed with effort, his teeth bared like a feral animal, sweat dripping down the sides of his face as he strained. FM, by contrast, remained composed, his expression calm, his muscles taut with controlled power.

The pub was in ruins. The sharp, acrid smell of gunpowder still hung in the air, mingling with the stale scent of spilled beer and greasy pub food.

Eventually, FM finally wrenched the 12 Gauge free from Mario’s grasp with a clean, decisive motion. The recoil sent Mario stumbling backward, crashing into a small table. He glared daggers at FM, his bushy moustache twitching as he rubbed his shoulder indignantly.

A voice cut through the thick silence of the bar.

"Okay, what the hell was that?!" MM snapped, fuming and trembling as he stormed forward towards the duo. His blue-gloved hands were splayed wide, his yellow skin practically glowing under the dim pub lights. "You don’t just bring a shotgun to the frickin' pub, let alone shoot up the damn place! Are you outta your mind?!"

Mario twitched from the remark, snapping his head toward MM, his turquoise eyes narrowing under the weight of his growing irritation. His moustache twitched, and his gloved hand pointed accusingly at the corner of the pub where he'd seen the cursed muppet.

“I saw it! The Red Rabbit was here!” His words came out sharp, like a saw tearing through wood, his conviction steadfast even in the face of doubt.

The room collectively groaned. A few patrons exchanged exasperated glances, while others muttered under their breaths. One Koopa, still crouched under a table, peeked out just long enough to shake his head.

MM’s yellow face twisted into a sneer, his eyes rolled from the excuse. "Look man, I know you're a special case. But we don't have time to look for imaginary friends!" 

Mario flinched at the word imaginary and special, his blue eyes narrowing. “It’s not-a imaginary! I saw it with my own eyes, Banana Mario!”

MM’s face turned an even deeper shade of yellow. "Banana Mario?!" He stomped forward, jabbing a finger at Mario’s chest. “Don’t you dare call me that, you... you retard!" 

Mario recoiled slightly, caught off guard by the insult. The room fell silent again, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. For a moment, no one moved. 

The Italian balled his fists, gloved hands clenched at his sides. Trembling. His wide eyes darted down in a downcast manner, before slowly panning upwards to the yellow skinned offender. "The fuck you say to me ya little shit?!" He shot back with unyielding intensity, ready to lunge at the jaundice man to give him the 1s.

“Enough.”

FM’s voice was low but commanding. He held the shotgun in one hand, lowering it to his side with calm precision. His red eyes swept between the two of them, finally landing on Mario. His face betrayed nothing, but the weight in his voice carried a different kind of frustration, controlled and deliberate.

“Mario...” FM addressed in an even but heavy tone. “There is no Red Rabbit.”

Mario’s head whipped toward FM, his wide eyed disbelief making him look like a child whose innocence had just been shattered. “What? No, you don’t understand! I saw it!” He jabbed a finger toward the obliterated booth. “It was there! Watching me! And when I tried to show someone, it disappeared!”

FM took a slow step forward, putting the shotgun away... somewhere in his person. His hands were steady, his voice measured. “Mario, listen to me. I know things... don’t always make sense to you. But you have to trust me when I say there’s nothing there. You’re just seeing things lad.”

Unfortunately, the gentle tone in FM’s words only seemed to incense Mario further. His expressive eyes widened with a mixture of hurt and fury, his voice rising. “Why are you talking to me like I’m-a stupid?! I’m-a not stupid! I know what I saw!”

“Whatever you’re seeing...” FM said carefully, his magenta gloved palms measured towards him. “It’s not real. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Maybe you’re just... tired. Maybe you need some rest.”

“Mario, you need to listen to him.” MM interjected, his voice softened from his furious tone but no less sharp. There was a slight twinge of concern in his jaundice hued face. “I actually think you need help. You’re-"

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!!" Mario began to sputter out, his blue eyes frantically swept between the two of them, drastically scanning the whole wreck of a pub. “Don’t talk to me like I’m-a stupid! I know what I saw!” His expression darkened, his porcelain gloved fists balled, threatening to spill blood.

FM opened his mouth to respond, but a voice interrupted him.

.....into the rabbit's flesh.....

Mario froze, his breath hitching as his mind scrambled to make sense of it. His fingers twitched, testing the texture, and were met with resistance that gave way like dough under pressure. The ground beneath him quivered, as if the earth itself was trying to warn him about the Red Rabbit.

He tried to pull his hand back, but much to his horror, it wouldn’t budge. His hand was stuck. Panic erupted in his chest, as he tugged harder, his muscles began to strain from his efforts. Instead, his hand sank further, and the fur gave way to something warm and wet... something that..... pulsed.

His other hand instinctively reached up to tug at his trapped arm, but the rabbit didn’t flinch. It didn’t move. It just stared. "Let-a go." Mario muttered, his voice rising from the surge of panic. "Let-a fucking go of me!"

And for the first time, the rabbit moved. Its head tilted slightly to the side, a slow, deliberate motion that didn't feel natural. A macabre sense of motion that only emphasised it's unnatural and ghastly proportions. Its hollow eyes seemed to darken, the shadows within them expanding as if alive. Mario froze, his voice caught in his throat.

The rabbit loomed over him now, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch unnaturally far. The darkness around Mario thickened, the forest melting into an endless black void. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound deafening as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Then he felt it: the earth beneath him shifting. A low rumble spread through the ground, vibrating up through his limbs. Maybe it was the initial shock from everything that numbed his sense of awareness. Maybe it was his grip on reality slipping more and more from the information of his true story. Or maybe he just didn't care about his life anymore.

But regardless, Mario didn't react when the Red Rabbit raised one of it's spindly arms slowly. Mario didn't react when its gangly hand pressing against Mario’s shoulder. Mario didn't react when he felt his portly frame teetering backward, or his feet skidding on the loose dirt.

But as the oblivious plumber slowly plummeted down to the dark and yawning sinkhole, his hand free from it's textured and pulsating prison, he saw it. The Red Rabbit’s expressionless gaze, the macabre disposition that followed him all the way down, it morphed into a smile. It was a slow, deliberate curl of the lips. But it deepened, far beyond anything normal. It's jaw elongated, as if unhinged, revealing a gaping void with no teeth or tongue.

It was disturbing. It was unnatural. It was... familiar. 

Chapter Text

Hey Mates! So we're finally here........

Yeah, I managed to update this work with the most recent Chapter 7, where the plot finally kicks in and all hell breaks loose moving forward. Well, before I go on with the Mario Arc, there are some things I wanted to get off my chest.

Now, I haven't done an update chapter in a long while. Mainly I didn't want to confuse myself when labelling chapters with updates covering whole chapters in the timeline and such. Also, I never really get much comments/responses to these post... but I'll cover that part later. For now, I just wanted to freely write/type some things I wanted to share with you readers, and hopefully not bother you guys with another Google Quiz/Poll. 

So here's agenda I want you guys to help me with, and please comment your responses down below; 

• Is FM Scottish?:

Yeah, this is kind of a trivial matter in most regards. But it's something I wanted to address because writing characters with accents is both difficult and annoying to keep up and be consistent with. You may ask why I'd written FM with a Scottish Accent to begin with.

Well, when I checked the SMG4 Wiki, it credited FM's dialogue with that of Demoman from TF2. I didn't know SMG4 much when I started the original fanfic so I just stuck with that. But the more I wrote FM, the more I wanted to develop him into an actual character with moments, and that was gonna be hard for me to do if his dialogue was only Highlander tongue. 

Plus, FM's nationality is meant to be American. So I've been thinking whether to edit the previous chapters and just make FightingMario54321 a low-base badass. To figure this out, I just want you to comment down whether or not I should just quit it with the accent for FM. No polls, because I'd had enough of those from the last work. 

• Is SMG4: The Mario Arc still Valid?:

Alright this is a weird issue to focus on, but I do think this needs to be addressed. When I first came up with the idea of this fanfic, the Puzzlevision movie just came out and Mario Abuse was still a major form of contention within the fandom. But now, with PuzzlePark effectively over and the SMG4 series seemingly returning back to it's episodic and formulaic roots, this whole thing just feels redundant. 

I don't know, all the Ao3 SMG4 Work I see these days is just either SMG4 x SMG3 Yaoi, or Meggy x Tari Yuri, or even Mr Puzzles Apologist Fics. I feel like this story I originally wrote as my attempt to characterize and give nuance to SMG4's greatest character assassination is now just me blowing in the wind of a dead topic. 

Not sure, comment down what you guys thinks.

• Should I Still Do This?:

This is probably the most important issue I want to address, because it's been giving me trouble when trying to write. My main problem when writing anything on Ao3 is motivation. When I finally finish a chapter and post it, it feels like my efforts and passion are unnoticed, like I spent that much effort in my life on nothing. I don't think I'm asking for much, just comments from users or guests to show me that my work isn't going unnoticed. 

That somebody is reading my fanfic and enjoys it.

And believe me, I've tried different ways to get my work seen more. I shared this work on Reddit (my main hub of SMG4 related content), but not much's come from it. I shared it on Tumblr but same results as from the Reddit post. I even cross-platformed this on Wattpad, and the results were just pathetic. 

I know you shouldn't expect your work to blow up overnight, especially if you're a relatively new writer on Ao3. But it's just I always see my first ever work on my dashboards, the original version of SMG4: The Mario Arc, and I see the statistics for that work. 

• 151 Kudos compared to 25 Kudos. 
• 33 Comments from Readers compared to 12 Comments from Other Readers (Not Including My Replies). 
• 14 Subscriptions compared to 9 Subscriptions.

Even now, with the work being discontinued, it continues to accumulate hits double or even triple than this works hit count. It just makes my efforts to revamp my story fruitless, and my attempts useless. I look over the old google forms I used to post for those readers, and see all those users and their interest in my writing. And now, I look at this work, and see how little it compares to the original. 

I remember when I first got into Ao3 writing, watching as I got Kudos and Comments more frequently, like 1-2 comment a week was enough to get me going and writing up more. It was almost exhilarating watching those hit counts build up with each refresh, it felt satisfying to see my efforts being noticed by fans of such a niche fandom. 

Now, I'm not trying to be ungrateful or anything, but to see your old and abandoned work being leagues above your new and refined form of writing has a defeating quality to it. The readers and users once invested in this SMG4: The Mario Arc Fanfic loosing interests as my refined version is unnoticed by the majority.

And to be honest, I miss certain users that left engaging comments I would love reading, Victor_John_Lazarus_056, Askol, and (Guest) FutureMarioFan to be exact.

I wish I could get them to come and see this revamped version of a Fanfic I introduced them to, and read what they have to say to it. Especially since it's finally coming to a close, finally writing out the alluded conclusion I planned to give my everything too. The project I've been most excited for now feels like a redundant topic.

..... what's the point?

Look, I don't want to end this in a negative note; so I want to cap this off by thanking one particular reader. (I don't know their pronouns so I'm going off anonymous ones) 

Percerrinas

This Ao3 user/reader has been with me the longest I would say. They was the first to comment on every chapter after the initial chapter, giving me their feedback on each one and expressing their interests.

They've commented the most in that old work, and expressed their interest and engagement in my writing passion. And even when I moved on to try and refine that work into this fanfic, guess who was the first to comment on each and every chapter?

Yes, Percerrinas. 

It still astounds me that this user is still commenting on my work and expressing their opinions on it. And it really makes me feel a certain happiness to see someone invested and engaged in something I made, something I thought of and wanted to share with everybody. 

So thank you, Percerrinas. Thank you for sticking with me through all the crap that is my Ao3 journey. And a big thank you to every single reader that is still invested in this story I've cooked up, and even bothered to read, comment and leave kudos to.

So, now what? Well, I do have other projects I want to work on; such as my Record of Ragnarök Fan Roster on Reddit (which I may post on Ao3 as well, who knows?), some Transformers Shattered Glass Customs I've been meaning to get started on, and just life in general.

What will happen to this Fanfic? Not too sure, maybe I'll try to share this on the SMG4 Discord perhaps? Again, not too sure. What I would love is to be able to start writing the last few chapters once the kudos, comments and hits are comparable to the old work, but I doubt that would even be possible. Still though, it wouldn't hurt to try. But regardless, I'm probably gonna take a break from writing on Ao3 until I see this work picking up from the old one.

But if there is one guarantee, I will finish this Fanfiction sooner or later. And until then, I will see you again with Chapter 8: 『A Very Personalised Episode』

Stay Tuned ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶