AN: Sorry this took so long! School just ended and I've been really busy. However, since I'm on vacation now, I can get to updating my stories now.
Toads in festive cherry colored gowns and coal tinted suits flooded the castle grounds in a flurry of activity and movement, the winter moon illuminating their faces like a flashlight. I ran past them with an envolope in hand, perhaps knocking a few down, not courteous enough to turn my head and apologize. A few, perhaps in their shock, gossiped wildly about my presense to whomever might be near them, and a guard even tried to block entry to the castle of Peach itself. If I had wanted to, I probably could of pushed that spotted fool to the side and made a mad dash for the snack bar, stuffing my skinny figure with as many bread rolls as possible before that wonderful red fat bastard I'm proud to call my cousin Mario would kick me out of the event. Of course, that would not be neccesary that night, as I flashed my manilla invitation to the guard before, yes, making a mad dash for the snack bar, stuffing my skinny figure with as many bread rolls as possible.
Now, one can hardly expect, what with my obviously spotless reputation, that I could spend much time at this little party without someone approaching me. Just my luck that the man that first approached me had put on the pounds, wore red, and went without a plunger hand ever since his big break as a princess saver. In other words, Mario was waddling my way like a penguin.
To be clear, all those sitcoms where the families get together perfectly are complete bullshit, and the writers ought to be shot. No family is without its black sheeps, namely me and Wario in the proud Mario family. That's our last name, by the way, seeing as I don't know how much you really know about your husband to be. My skeptism has gotten to the point where I doubt you know your own fiancee's last name. Mario. Who the hell decided to name Mario himself? I don't know, but whoever did so lacked much of an imagination. I have quite a vivid one, you see. I actually created this little fantasy in my head in which I believed I had a fighting chance to be with you. To be clear, my relationship with my cousins has never been great, and especially after the little scene I pulled at your reception, mine with Luigi is shot.
Not that I really care.
He leaned against the snack table in a nonchantly way, took a bread roll, not a word said as of the moment. As he chewed his eyes searched me, and he threw the remaining bread in the air and back in the palm of his gloved hand, catching it every time. His body movement just screamed Hey, it's all good, I can be cool too.
"Enjoying yourself?" he smiled brightly. I winced. His teeth could challenge the yellow of the sun, his breath being no better.
The smile off his saggy face dropped, and one could see the mechanics of his brain working quickly to change approach tactics. Cheer was replaced with a long winded sigh. His elbow dug into the white tablecloth as he shiffted his body to a slanted position.
"Not a great way to treat the guy who sent you an invitation to this party, Waluigi."
I raised an eyebrow in interest. "So it was you who sent that to me?
"Well, yes. I mean who else would want to give you a-" Mario caught himself, stopping short mid sentence. He realized his error and must of expected me to be offended, though it was the truth. Who would bother? Little children probably saw my house and ran off screaming from the mere stench, no less full grown men. Mailmen did not even dare to approach my doors. Mario probably had to wear a clothespin over his nose to leave an invitation in my mailbox, or paid some unlucky mailsmen extra to do the task.
"Waluigi understan- I mean, it's understandable. I mean, it wasn't like Waluigi ex- damn it, I expected Daisy to deliver it or something." I muttered, clutching my head in my hands.
See, I have this awful habit of talking in third person when I get nervous. Mario didn't exactly make me quiver in my shoes, but something about your name made me shiver in what could either be love or misguided affection. To the common man, they might seem to be the same thing, but to the man who finds himself in the thorny trap that is love, the difference is obvious. Do you know that feeling you get when you use "God" in a non-religion related sentence and upon remembering that one cannot use His name in vain, you get that nervous feeling of guilt? That Saint Peter might hold you up at the gates for using the name many a time impracticly? When you feel like that perhaps you should apologize to God yet you know you'll just do it again, and that aching feeling in your stomach's pit seems to take a grip at your gut? Your own spot in heaven is questioned just because of a simple word.
Perhaps that is the feeling I got, that maybe I jepordized a chance of being in your heart when I mentioned you.
"Why Daisy, if you don't mind me asking?"
My hands released my hands. "Oh, erm, Waluigi isn't sure. Her name is just the first that came to Waluigi's head." I didn't even bother to correct myself this time. Damn, I was actually cowering in fear from a name. See, I hadn't actually seen you for two years. Every knew you must be alive, yet no one had actually seen you. Perhaps this is truth in itself that Sarasaland existed, for where could you of gone during that time? I still hold my doubts, however.
He nodded, obviously accepting my excuse. "Have you started to wonder yet why I invited you here in the first place?"
"There's no room in my mind for explanations when food is afoot."
Mario shook his head and laughed, making me wonder what he found so funny in my reply. "Some things never change, do they? When we were children, you, me, Wario, and Luigi would play house, remember? Sure, looking back, it was a bit odd, seeing as we were all boys, but..." He turned his head and looked up to the stars, lost in memories.
"Well, Luigi would always take position of Mama, you know. Mama Luigi, we'd call him. And once he was done doing our laundry and washing the dishes and doing the shopping, well, he'd bake. Cookies were 'made', to be exact, and though he claimed to make them himself, we all knew that he'd sneak into the house and accept cookies from the adults to bring to us. No cookie in the world 'bakes' in twenty seconds, you know." Mario paused for a minute to chuckle, leaving me to dive deeper into my murky memory to indulge in my childhood.
"You'd distract us momentarily, leading us out of the yard to show us a frog you claimed to find, and leave us behind to go to the house. By the time we returned, you had eatten roughly twelve cookies and were bursting with crumbs."
The only useful piece of information I got from this was the memory of chocolate chip cookies on my tongue.
"There must be a reason you brought this to my attention." Mario caught the glare in my eye, and paid attention to my every movement. "Do you take me for a fool? There must be some reason you're dragging this up now."
"Waluigi, no one takes you for a fool." Mario swallowed.
"You've spent half of our adult life ignoring myself and Wario. Hating us, even. There must be some reason you've decided to suddenly warm up to us."
"Look, it was wrong of me, okay? I've made mistakes before regarding you and Wario. I'm not some spotless, glorious hero, I'll admit."
"That would be the understatement of the century."
"Waluigi, haven't you ever wanted to be a part of a family?"
Well, that statement shook me. If anything, I expected the guy to ask me for money.
"Excuse me? I must of had a loose chunk of ear wax clogging my hearing." I replied, pretending to pick at my ear.
"Waluigi, we have a small family. Peach has a small family. It doesn't make sense to shun the very few people I have left. Don't you want to be with us more often? It must get lonely for you, and don't lie, you know it does."
"Ah, so Peach put you up to this?"
He shook his head. "You're impossible to deal with, you know that?"
"Not only do I know, I wear the feeling with pride."
Defeat stung his eyes. "Look, you can get back to me on this. I'm not sure, but I think Bowser might be planning something big-and don't give me that look, I'm being serious!- so might be out of town for a while. You know, on princess buisness." Mario winked as if it was some big joke between us, and it took all my willpower not to roll my eyes. I can be somewhat decent, much to your suprise.
Hard to hear that from a guy who crashed your wedding celebration, but hey.
He started to edge away from the table inch by inch, then did a huge backflip, landing perfectly. This drew a few claps from the crowd, who were amazed that a stomach that huge could also get huge air.
"Think about, Waluigi. Oh!" A thought suddenly slipped into his head, and as he started to make his run through the crowd, he shouted after me. I had gotten to thinking, and perhaps Mario wasn't all that bad. Sure, he could stand to loose some weight, but he seemed to be good at heart. Something I should despise, yes, but perhaps it was time to change my ways.
"Daisy is here! Tonight! I just thought you ought to know since you mentioned her and all."
He waited all that time to tell me that? Forget everything I said. He's a bastard.