Disclaimer: I do not own any thing of Nintendo
Nintendo released the most anticipating news to the world just last week. The masterminds have decided to stage a Mario Kart challenge to participating teams around the world in an effort to restart the phenomenon. Create a team of eight, based off the characters available in the latest DS version of the classic game, and race your way through the brackets to win. The top two teams from each participating country will fly to Japan to compete for the grand prize of creating their own racetrack for the upcoming version of Mario Kart. Does your team have what it takes?
*Page Break*
"Does your team have what it takes?"
The woman's voice vanished as the janitor shot off the radio. Sighing Jason slumped back in his seat. He desired nothing but his comfortable bed, yet he somehow found himself working double shift four nights in a row. Carl, the janitor, swept the floor near Jason, whistling some old tune for entertainment. Jason leaned forward, pulling out a sheet of paper, now wrinkled and already starting to fade.
Nintendo proudly presents its first ever Global Racing Tournament! Create a team, pick a name, and race your way to the top! Mario, riding atop his custom B Dasher, appeared in the lead ahead of Luigi, Bowser, and Peach on an asphalt racetrack, dominating as always. Jason first noticed the flyer pinned to the bulletin board at his regular grocery store. He immediately grabbed the paper and went along his business. He had heard talk about the tournament for a few days now. The more he heard, the more he wanted. He knew he had to make a team, but being the loner he was he wasn't sure if he could get enough players to form a solid team of eight.
Suddenly, he heard a door open, releasing the cool air to the humid night. Jason leaped from his chair and hurried over to the storage room, restocking the eating utensils, plates, cups, and numerous other items used up over the course of the long summer day. He had just started opening a box of cups when his boss knocked on the heavy door. Jason turned to face the large, sophisticatedly dressed man as he stood in the doorway. Noticing he was still holding the package of cups he quickly set them up on the shelf while answering.
"Yes sir?"
"Just seeing how things were going. We had a call-in for tomorrow, scheduled for eight thirty." Jason cringed. Not another early morning, he thought wearily. I won't leave tonight until midnight. "I spoke to Lillian," his boss continued, "and we wanted to know if you'll take the shift?"
"Sure, no problem," replied Jason as he reached into the box for another set of cups. "I can take it."
"Great. Good job, by the way. You've been doing well." With that, his boss left, most likely to head home and sleep in a nice, large, comfortable bed. Jason sighed as he leaned against the edge of the storage rack.
"Great," he muttered. "And I was this close to going home and staying there." He angrily restocked the cups and finished up, locking the doors at approximately 12:15 a.m.
*Page Break*
Brrrriing! Brrrriing! Brrrrriin—
A hand reached out from the bed, practically groping the nightstand to locate the phone and shut off the alarm. Jason started to get up when he fell back down upon his pillow, cursing his life. It wasn't that he hated his job. He merely wanted to witness the earth open up and swallow the taco shop and laugh maniacally as it burned. But besides that, he didn't hate it.
He finally found some bit of energy to climb to a sitting position on the edge of his bed. He didn't see the point in renting out his studio apartment. He lived and breathed Carlos Tacos—why not just live in his vehicle and shower while washing the car at the wash? It'd be cheaper at least. He gazed out at his humble abode, littered with laundry, coke bottles, and mail from about a week ago, unopened. His mother would be appalled. The thought of her ashamed face brought a laugh to his meager existence and he decided to climb out of bed.
The clock on his phone read 7:02. He had enough time to spare to search through the forums on the tournament website.
Right after making the tournament public, Nintendo created a site for potential racers to use as means of creating teams and gathering a general idea of the numbers participating in the event. For people like Jason, a person could search through their country's possibilities and pick out teammates based on character choice, experience, or proximity. He resided just outside Dallas, Texas; therefore searching for potential racers in North Texas would be perfect if he cared about things such as that. In his mind, a person would be better off searching for a team made up of racers based on their skill, not their city or even character preference. Unfortunately, most of the best racers had already found teams to belong to, especially with only three weeks until the cut-off date for entries. The first official race would take place on August 17th with the winning teams announced early morning on August 20th.
What was even more impressive was how Nintendo planned to set up the races. Using a wireless connection, the Nintendo team managed to create a system of hooking up the DS game to a large server for judges to watch in each state for the beginning rounds. Each of the 8 racers from 8 total teams would be randomly chosen to compete in one of the Grand Prix: either Nitro or Retro. From there, a racer would be entered for Mushroom, Flower, Star or Special Cup for the Nitro Grand Prix, or the Shell, Banana, Leaf, or Lightning Cup for the Retro Grand Prix. After these players have been chosen, the races will start with the Mushroom Cup leading up to the finale race in the Lightning Cup. The team with the highest combined score will move on to the next round. Once regionals start, fewer teams will get cut to ensure a large turnout for the national competition in November. From there, the top two teams from each participating country will fly to Japan and take on the best of the best to take home the grand prize.
Nintendo decided a global tournament deserved a one-of-a-kind prize. The winning team will receive the chance to design a new racetrack for the upcoming revamped Mario Kart.
Jason stared at the screen, the vision of the opportunity to work with game creators filling his head. If only he could find a team skilled enough to reach the top. He scrolled through the potential racers, racking his brain over why he felt he was cruising through a dating website.
His eyes wandered over to the computer clock. 7:16. He really didn't want to go to work. Jason returned his eyes to the screen, searching through more names when he came across a guy named Mitchell. Unlike the others, his miniature profile wasn't overdone, and his selling line was enough to grab Jason's immediate attention.
Bowser's a beast, as am I. I play no one else. Anyone still hiring?
Jason grinned. He liked the guy's attitude, but while reading through his comments, an interesting discovery struck him.
Sorry, but we already have 2 guys who can play Bowser. No sense in getting one who only does one player.
First, Bowser is NOT THE BEST. Second, you need to broaden your playing skills.
Not enough drive. Looking for people with multiple racers.
You can't drive only one that only weakens the team loser!
"Who says?" Jason pondered, reading the latest comment. Having a team full of racers with one expertise would be a lot safer than having two fanatics fight over the same character. Once again he checked the time. 7:24. He had to get ready soon, so he left a quick comment.
You still looking to be hired? I've got an opening available, if you're good.
Jason logged off and shut off his computer. Maybe he still had time to organize a decent team. He might just be slick enough to pull this stunt off—if Mitchell and any other last minute entries are as good as they advertise.
*Page Break*
Another double shifted day completed, and Jason trudged up the stairs to his second story apartment. He flung his items on the loveseat as he entered the kitchen. Opening the door, he searched through the fridge to discover nothing appetizing. He closed the door. He reopened with disappointed hopes. He shut it again. Moving out of the kitchen he reentered his living room, practically falling into his computer chair as he opened up his laptop. Jason paused, surprised that the tournament website remained up and went to close it when he noticed the highlighted envelope at the top of the screen.
Suddenly, the Bowser guy from the morning popped into his head and he eagerly clicked open the message.
Good to hear. What do I need to do to prove my skills? I'm guessing no one else passed your test since you're the only one on this team.
Jason grinned. Just as quickly, his smile faltered. A test? What sort of test was he supposed to give this guy? He leaned back in his chair, his weariness vanishing as he contemplated the possibilities for the racer. However, regarding the circumstances, Jason could think of only one challenge Bowser man could take.
He immediately leaped from his chair and hurried to grab a box from under his bed. Opening the lid, he pulled out his old DS. It was one of the first, and his parents had bought it for him with a special edition Mario Kart coloring. The heavy, red game console felt no different, but for the first time, Jason planned to use it for a new reason.
Quickly turning it on, he hurried through his own personal levels as Mario until he reached the 150cc and checked his best times for the Special Cup. He grinned. If he wanted to prove his worth, let's check his scores.
He paused before replying, making sure to word his request the way he wanted it to sound.
I want you to race the Special Cup 150cc, playing computers as though you were in the tournament. Record the end results with the tech on this website and send it back to me in another private message. I raced and achieved a star as the overall score. If you race the track with at least that score, you're in. If not, you'd better have an amazing story to get yourself on this team.
With that, Jason closed out of the program before logging off and shutting down for the night. He undressed and climbed into his comfortable bed, not realizing until that moment how much work he had just created for himself. He rolled over, facing the ceiling.
"If that kid makes it, I've got three weeks to assemble a team of people I haven't even found yet." Jason groaned to his ceiling fan, considering calling in sick for tomorrow night.
*Page Break*
"Just that score and I'm in?" Mitchell stated, taking another mouthful of his energy drink. "I guess I'm the best he's found so far. HA!" he laughed, shaking his head. "Looks like Mitch's got himself a team!"
He abandoned the computer to search around his room for the black DS. He grinned upon finding it, but nearly knocked himself out with the stench from his dirty gym clothes. He immediately recovered the shirts, shorts, and socks, zipped the bag closed and stuffed it under his desk. He exited the room in search of breathable air and flopped down on the couch. His dorm mate was in class for another hour or so, and then be out with his girlfriend. Mitchell had plenty of time to hone his skills and finally join a team for the tournament.
Before turning on his game console however, Mitchell turned on his laptop and logged back on to . He reread the private message sent from his future teammate and then scanned his profile. As he had commented before, Jason's profile was empty, and he hadn't even posted which characters he drove well. Mitchell slammed the laptop closed. He could questions after he proved his worth with his fantastic skills.
He flipped open the console when the phone rang.
"Ah, hell," he muttered, closing the DS and rushing to find the cell and answer it before he missed the call. With seconds to spare, he located the phone and answered hurriedly.
"Mitch, glad I reached you. My car won't start and I need a boost."
"You parked in a college parking lot—there aren't any other cars closer around?"
His roommate laughed sarcastically. "Cars, yes. Cords, no." Mitchell groaned at the mention of his jump plugs.
"Okay, okay, let me find my keys." He ended the call without another reply as he grabbed his items and set them down on his bed. Once again, he rummaged through his mess and found his car keys in his gym bag, reeking more than before. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Mitchell hurried out of his room and out the dorm door, regretting the three flights he'd have to walk up in order to get back home.
*Page Break*
Brrrriing! Brrrriing! Brrrrriing!
Groggily, Jason opened his eyes. He thought he'd heard something, but perhaps it was only in a dream…
Brrrriing! Brrrri—
He reached over and hit the side button on his phone to dismiss the alarm. But the movement felt familiar.
Jason lurched upward, ripped his phone off the table and checked the time. 9:49. He was supposed to be leaving for work two hours ago!
He leaped off the bed, threw on clothes and stumbled into the kitchen. Just as he started to gulp down the remainder of the rancid orange juice, his phone rang. Thanking the phone guardians for stopping him from drinking his death, Jason raced back into his bedroom and checked the caller ID, or rather as he viewed the screen, the number on the text message. Suddenly, work seemed far from his mind.
The area code was 253. Where the heck is 253? And who knows my number there? He thought over, debating whether to view the message. Deciding to go ahead and open the text, he pressed 'OK' and grinned upon reading.
Mitchell here. Got your number from site. Working on racing score now, should be posted by noon my time.
Jason immediately sighed with relief as he fell onto his bed. He had the morning off today, and possibly the night if no one called in. He couldn't believe he almost drank infested juice for nothing. However, he wasn't off for the day. If Mitchell managed to beat his score, or even match it, that gave him—he glanced at his wall calendar—19 days to put together a team. Suddenly pleased his alarm had gone off (if only the later one) and headed to the living area to start his computer. Logging on to the site, he proceeded to update his site accordingly, deciding to keep his number up as well as adding his e-mail address and city and state. Recalling the text, he searched the area code, surprised by the fact that his first teammate resided in Washington State. Jason shrugged. The best never lived close after all—too much competition.
He continued updating his profile when the final two blanks stopped his actions. Character and Team Name.
The team name could be put on hold until he actually formed a team, especially since he personally sucked at them, but he would need a character to associate himself with before too many joined. He played Mario Kart when he was younger, but unlike Mitchell, he had never only driven one person and connected with a character to a point where there was no other choice. Because he didn't care, he usually just picked the first face that popped up on the screen.
But could he pass off as a Mario?
*Page Break*
"Come on, NO! You stupid mustache man!" Mitchell screamed into his DS. "You did that on purpose!" He turned with his cart, causing him to nearly fall off the couch—again. He had already finished the first three and dominated. But at the last second, the computer Mario would get a red shell or something to result in Bowser faltering. But now that he acted as the dinosaur turtle, Bowser would reign victorious.
"Damn it!" Mitchell cursed, falling onto the floor as his cart slid off the rainbow road and into oblivion. "I hate Mario!" He immediately started to drive after being lifted back onto the track, but continued to remain on the floor. This was the third try he'd taken and only managed a score of 'A' because of Mario screwing with his time on the last track. But he'd get his revenge. He drove into an item box and found himself with a red shell. Glancing at his place, he hurried past Donkey Kong and released the shell just seconds before Mario reached the finish line. As the red overalls spun out, Bowser slid past and made the place.
"YES!" Mitchell jumped into the air, dancing around his dorm. Realizing what he was doing, he instantly sat down on the couch, though still giddy with domination. However, the win was far from over. Even with a score of 38, he still had to hope that his times were quick enough to score a star. He anxiously watched the screen as the top three racers performed a victory lap, and then…
"A star! Oh yeah, baby!" Mitchell jumped up and down on the couch, screaming at the top of his lungs a random array of noises. He had scored high enough to join the team. Once his excitement slowed, he connected his console to the site and uploaded the results, immediately sending Jason a message. Upon writing the news, he decided to take a trip to his profile, surprised by the updates. Then he stopped. Sure, he agreed to race Bowser on the team, but just who did Jason plan to drive? He wrote a comment on the page before shutting down and preparing for his afternoon class.
*Page Break*
Jason scooted the chair as far away from the computer screen as possible, his eyes almost blood shot from staring at the monitor. He refused to believe that no one else advertised as playing only one character. However, after 2 hours of mindlessly searching through profiles and forums, he began to rethink his strategy. He tried looking for specifics in the beginning but realized he'd have to settle for whoever came along. He avoided the overdone users and the underachievers but even the sane players seemed overzealous to join a team. Mitchell had seemed normal. Why couldn't anyone else?
A notification popped up, alerting him to his inbox. He suddenly grew worried that perhaps Mitchell had in fact passed the test, and now expected a full-fledged team. But he had nothing. No one else existed on this planet who could possibly match up like Mitchell and his Bowser expertise.
Only one thing left to do, and as Jason read the results, he found himself laughing. Why worry? It wasn't like this guy was someone he knew. If he had to let him down by telling him there was no team, what did that matter? Just as he reached the conclusion of messaging him back, he received another notification. It was for a comment left on his profile. Jason grew puzzled, thinking perhaps someone may have spotted his page and his own new advertisement (Looking for racers who race only one character) when he saw it was from Mitchell.
I know I passed, but I'm not an idiot. You've got less than three weeks to find the rest of a team. I can find other offers, but you can't necessarily find other racers to give offers to. Besides that, you haven't even chosen your own character. Give me a reply by tonight and I'll give you my choice.
Jason leaned back in his chair, frustrated. Well he couldn't very well let the guy go now; he proved he could move on. He preferred his own vision where he crushed the guy to pieces from denying him. "Why do I have to be so malevolent?" he pondered aloud before shutting off the computer. Jason left to his room, threw on his shoes, and ignored the phone when his work called. He refused to come in before his shift started at 1:30 that afternoon. He slid the phone in his pocket and grabbed his keys.
*Page Break*
Mitchell parked his hand-me-down Mitsubishi just outside a Starbucks, contemplating going in. He had a date with a girl from his English 2311 class. Unfortunately, as he was preparing to leave, he checked his racer's profile once again to see about a reply. Nothing. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or apathetic. After all, it wasn't like Jason had formed a complete team, just a spontaneous comment left on his own profile late one night. But it still bothered him, and now he wasn't even in the mood to go on a date with a cute girl. Realizing his stupidity, he stepped out of the car and into the coffee shop.
He looked around a moment before taking a seat at an empty table. Mitchell was early, but he needed to think anyway. He had a paper due the upcoming Monday and a presentation in his ethics class due sometime next week. He hadn't started either and tried to pick out his weekend to make room for both projects. Suddenly, his phone went off. Quickly silencing it so as not to disturb the other customers, he recognized the area code as the same from Jason's profile.
Sliding the phone open he read, with satisfaction, the text message.
Okay I've had time to clear my head. We have about 18 days to form the most kickass team ever seen in Mario Racing. I want more players like you representing only one. Help me out if you can.
Mitchell closed the phone just as his date walked in, looking around for him. He quietly called her over, smiling as she sat down. She instantly started to dry herself off.
"I hate the rain," she stated plainly, causing Mitchell to laugh. Just then, a little boy walked in, wearing a Mario shirt. Mitchell smiled, causing his date to turn to see what he was looking at. She shook her head. "Have you heard about that thing Nintendo set up? The racing thing?"
Mitchell nodded. "Yeah, sounds interesting." His date dropped her expression.
"The only thing that sounds interesting is how they are making this into such a huge deal. I mean, come on, Mario Kart hasn't been cool since my parents were kids. No one in their right mind would take part in that unless they were that kid's age." She finished fixing her hair and focused her attention on the menu. "I want a vanilla bean, soy milk Frap. Can you get it?" she asked sweetly.
Mitchell smiled. "Of course." He stood up and walked toward the counter, standing behind the woman and her son. Glancing back at the table, he grinned as he saw his date's back to the door. Taking one last look at the line, he turned around and walked out of the shop and into his car. Just as he started the Mitsubishi, the radio commercial for the tournament finished. The voice of the spokeswoman seemed to echo in his ears.
Does your team have what it takes?
Just then, another text message came through from Jason.
I'm thinking Mario as my character. After all, the ladies dig the moustache.
Mitchell shook his head.
They dig the shell. Sorry man.