Yep, this is another story (or stories, depending on how you want to look at it) that I'm doing alongside Smashing Final Destination. I was planning to write this after SFD, but I got impatient. Sue me. No, not really.

Only the plot(s) belongs to me.


It was a peaceful early morning at the mansion. Light streamed through the windows, illuminating every floor above ground. This particular day was also a time of change for one certain brawler…

He yawned and jumped out of bed. Hastily changing out of his pajamas, he wore his famed cap and overalls. Yes, this was Mario, hero of the Mushroom Kingdom, ready to start another day of fighting with denizens from other worlds. He groaned at the thought of having a match straight after breakfast. And yet, he knew that winning this year's tournament would give him a trophy, such as the last two that he won.

He walked down to the dining hall. The chefs obviously woke up very early; a wide range of food stretched from one end of the 20-foot table to the other. Hot food, cold food; it was all there.

No one else was there. Taking advantage of Kirby's absence, he stuffed down his favourite mushroom salad. Now he won't be famished for the match. He then walked out into the entrance hall.

And there she was.

A stunning beauty in a flowery-pink dress walked down the stairs and seemed to glide towards Mario. "Mario? Why are you up so early?"

"I had-a to go to eat-a my breakfast," he replied, meekly. Before him was the ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, Princess Peach. Her smile was radiant and could brighten any person's day up. "Anyways, I think-a I'll have to practice before my big-a match."

"Ok..." Peach said sadly. Mario turned back to her.

"What's-a the matter, princess?" he asked worriedly.

"Well, it's been a few years since we knew each other, and I have to tell you this..."

Mario gulped. Was she going to blurt out her feelings of deep affection for him?

"I..."

This was it. She started to blush deeply.

"think..."

Oh, how she will praise all of his supernatural qualities! Mario sighed and his heart swelled three times the legal size.

"...your Italian accent is annoying."

Yes! He had charmed her with his annoying Italian accent! Victory is mine! he thought.

Then somewhere in the distance, a record scratched.

"Wait-a, what?" His heart's exhilaration quickly turned into shock and disbelief.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't handle it anymore. Even Bowser has a sexier voice than you," she sighed.

The plumber's pupils shrunk in horror. Bowser? That fugly green spiked turtle that stole her every single time he tried to talk to her (in other words, make a pass)?

"Oh! You have a match to go to, right? Don't mind what I just said; it was tactless."

But he couldn't get it out of his head. The phrase "your Italian accent's annoying" resounded through his brain.

"Will the combatants please report to the stadium immediately," a booming voice reverberated throughout the mansion. In a zombie-like trance, the plumber dragged himself towards the stage.

It was a one-on-one match, with his opponent being Zelda. As they were transported to the stage commonly known as Luigi's Mansion, Mario tried to quickly regain his focus. Try as he might, the Hylian princess kept him in a hold with her magic, until he was sent flying off the stage.

As all the spectators were leaving, she walked up to Mario and asked, "What's wrong? You could usually dodge Din's Fire easily."

Mario responded in monotone. "Nothing is-a wrong. If you'll-a excuse me, I've gotta go." He dragged his limp feet, urging them to move forwards.

---

"Something's not right with Mario," Zelda reported. "Do you think you can help him?"

I could, though why should I read his mind?

She was in Mewtwo's room, full of gloom and mystery. Strange runes adorned the dark-purple draped walls and there was a strange smell of incense permeating through the room.

"Because he's troubled? Can't you be a good Samaritan for once?"

I see no benefit it serves to me or that plumber.

"Do it for me. Please?"

No.

Zelda sighed and opened the door, preparing to leave. "Well, I guess that I can't force you if you really don't want to. It really is a shame that I can be hard to trust secrets with at times…"

Mewtwo's eyes narrowed. How did you know about it? Zelda smirked; she could hear the nervousness in his telepathic voice.

"I have my ways. But if you really don't want to help, I can always go bother Ness or Lucas."

Wait. Fine, I surrender. I'll go and see what's wrong with him.

"I knew I could trust you. Tell me as soon as you can," she replied as she closed the door behind her, leaving Mewtwo planning the best opportunity to erase her memories.

***

Two days had gone by and Zelda met Mewtwo in his abode. "Well?" she hissed.

It seems that Princess Peach has upset him.

"How?"

Apparently, she told him that his Italian accent leaves much to be desired.

"Thanks, Mewtwo." Zelda left and stopped halfway in the hallway. Well, I know his problem now. The question is how do I fix it? She knew that the only way to remedy this was for Mario to get rid of his inflection. But that, she reasoned, would mean someone would have to re-teach him the English language sans accent. If that were the case, he had to have someone that spoke clearly like any other person would.

But now the question was, who could it be? Who could teach Mario to sound like a native speaker of the language? That's when it her.

---

"You want me to do what?"

"It's for Mario's sake, and I can't think of anyone else to help him."

"Fine, but on one condition."

"…do I even want to know what it is?"

"Well, it's like this…"

---

Zelda walked out infuriated. How dare he ask her that. This is the last time I ever make any deals with him, she thought.

That evening, as the sky was stained a misty red, everyone was just finishing up dinner. As they all got up to leave, Zelda dragged Mario to an alcove.

"Princess-a Zelda!" Mario exclaimed. "Whatever do you want-a with me?"

"Well, I just found a solution to your problem! You should be grateful!"

"Wait-a, how do you know what my problem is-a? Did you ask-a someone to read-a my mind?" Mario questioned, eyes narrowed.

"Well, yes," Zelda admitted.

"I never said-a I wanted any help. However, I'll-a take it!"

"Good. At 11, Go to…"

---

Mario had taken night trips before, but all before this had been to get him back to sleep. Now, he had a mission: to enchant Princess Peach with the downfall of his accent. However, he never thought that he would learn from this man, of all people.

"I was waiting for you." A mercenary in an espionage suit stood, glaring at Mario. He went by the code name of Snake. "Well, Zelda asked me to train you in the art of speaking properly." Mario nodded. "Well now, I want you to repeat after me. Say cat."

"Cat-a."

"OK. Now try doing it without the "-a."

"Cât."

"So good so far. Now, try doing it without raising and dropping your pitch at the 'a.'"

And so the training began. In the cover of the night, the sessions took most of the deathly silence with Mario's steadily improving speech. However, Mario decided not to say a word, so that when the time came, he could surprise Peach with the new improved sans Italian accent Mario, meaning that the only other person that knew of his progress was his teacher.

This didn't mean that he had a few problems communicating with the others. Giving certain answers were easy enough with a headshake to Samus' proposal to a match, a look of disgust at Captain Falcon's idea of sneaking into Samus' lingerie, and crossed arms to Sonic's plans; he never liked that annoying hedgehog in the first place, anyways.

Others were a bit harder, such as that one time when he was in a match with Luigi as his team partner; he had to communicate non-verbally their strategies. Everyone wondered what happened to Mario, and tried to get him to speak. And tried they did: making passwords up whenever he tried miming for something, goading him to be a mediator for planned arguments, and the ultimatum: getting him to make a speech that was hastily averted.

Then, one night, up in Snake's room, the mercenary nodded his approval. "I think you're ready. You better go down and get some shut-eye. Don't worry," he added. "With my teachings, you'll make any girl fall to your knees in seconds."

***

The next day was just like any other day. The birds chirped, the wind whistled, you name it. And yet, it was one of the most extraordinary days ever. Breakfast was the usual affair, though the persuasion for our red-hatted plumber was greater than ever. As he finished off his last pancake, Mario stood up, attracting everyone's gaze.

"So the mute decides to speak, eh?" Sonic jeered. Mario narrowed his eyes and let his vocal cords do their work.

What happened next shocked everyone.

With Mario's accent problem fixed, he modeled his new one around Snake. It was a hundred times more wonderful and horrible at the same time. Orange juice trickled down Marth's neck, R.O.B. was forced to recalibrate his data, Bowser's jaw unhinged, and Luigi fainted straight away.

"Yeah, I do, you drug-driven hedgehog," he retorted. Sonic was left speechless. Everyone burst into nervous babble before driven back to hush as Mario moved towards Peach. She gulped as he drew ever nearer. What was this feeling deep within her bosom? Her heart was beating ten times as fast and her vision flickered.

"So how do you like the new me?" Mario asked in a tone that would cause girls to shudder in orgasmic euphoria. Peach was no different, as she melted and collapsed onto the floor.

Mario smiled. Things were going to be different from now on.


Well, you've now gotten a tasting on what happens in these series of related one-shots! Note that since I'm still doing Smashing Final Destination as well, updates will be sloooooow.

Anyways, review!