AN: This my version of Bowser's Mario Power tennis trophy celebration.

Bowser was sitting in his room, anxiously tapping his long pointed claws together. It was a relatively simple room, but the few bits of furniture he had were suited for royalty. Instead of a normal armchair that most people had, he had a gold studded, cushioned throne. The headboard of his bed was solid gold, molded in the shape of his head. And, in the place of carpet, he had a frigid stone floor. But, despite all of this, the most notable feature was the back wall, which was totally lined with tennis equipment.

This wasn't his room in his palace, more of a smaller scale of it. While in the Power Tennis tournament, all of the contestants had stayed in the hotel Bowser was now sitting in. When he had arrived, he had bribed (threatened) the Shy Guy up front into giving him his credit card to buy the accessories that decorated his room.

A sharp rap on his door caused the Koopa King's head to fly up. He nervously scuffled over to the door, and opened it. A look of shock appeared on his face as he saw who had been knocking, and then one of annoyance replaced it. Standing in front of him was a short mustachioed man in the garb of a plumber, wearing a red hat with an 'M' on it, a matching long sleeved shirt, denim overalls, and white gloves. He had a disappointed look in his piercing blue eyes as he looked up a considerable distance until his eyes found Bowser's.

But Bowser paid no mind to him. His eyes fall upon the second visitor, a woman, smaller than him, but taller than the man. She had cascading blond hair that was pulled into a ponytail, brilliant, blazing blue eyes, full lips, and she was wearing a light pink sleeveless minidress with a hot pink collar and frill at the bottom, and a sapphire brooch at the chest.

"Hello, Princess Peach," he said with a sly smile.

"What am I, chopped liver?" the man asked.

"I'm choosing not to acknowledge your existence, Mario."

"Blubber butt, I have news!" Mario snapped.

Peach sighed and looked at her watch. "We've been here for five seconds and you two are already at each others throats. This must be some kind of record."

"Alright, half-pint, what's your news?"

"My news is, out of sheer dumb luck, you seem to have won the tennis tournament," Mario said, seeming to slur his words because of his Italian accent.

"Oh, was there ever any doubt?"

"Yes," Mario and Peach said together.

"There was doubt that you were coordinated enough to make it to the court, there was doubt that you knew how to pick up a racquet, - "

"Mario!" Peach interrupted.

Bowser was glaring down at Mario. "Oh, who are you to talk? Loser," he said, walking past Mario and pushing his hat down over his eyes as he did so. "See you at the awards ceremony. Oh wait, no I won't."

Mario snarled in the direction that Bowser had walked off in. "I hope you fall through the stage!" he called after him.

"Oh Mario, he's just trying to spite you. Don't let it get to you," Peach said soothingly.

"I still can't believe I'll be having to hand him that trophy," Mario grumbled.

"Cheer up, it won't be that bad."

"Handing that little two-faced snob a trophy is going to be bad."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and he really will fall through the stage, and you'll get the best view of it."

"I hope."

Just in front of the barrier separating the front row from the tennis court, Bowser was stretching. In this small area, he was hidden from the view of the millions of screaming fans. "Didn't know I was this popular," he remarked as he listened to them cheer. He chuckled to himself as he ran out across and onto the stage. Basking in the glory of the moment, he stood there, his hands on his hips, and a cruel smile on his lips.

A highly annoyed Mario walked out of the area Bowser had just been in, carrying a large gold trophy in his hands. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Stop!" Bowser called out to him. Mario couldn't hear him over the uproarious crowd and he continued walking. Sighing, Bowser walked over to him, placed a hand on his head and turned him around. "No. Walk home pee-wee plumber."

"What? I have your trophy, you stupid thick-headed moron!"

"I know. That's the problem. I'm not excepting a trophy that's had your filthy grimy hands all over it!"

"What, you want me to ask them to sterilize it? Take it!"

"My point is, I'm not excepting a trophy from you."

"Bowser, we're in front of millions of people. This is no time for a petty rivalry."

"Are you kidding? The main-stream television audience soaks this up!"

Mario's face twisted into a snarl. "I don't care about what the main-stream television audience does. I care about what I do. And right now, I don't like what I'm doing. So, take the trophy before I shove it down your ugly throat."

"Go get Peach to give it to me," Bowser said, shooing Mario away.

"What?"

"You heard me, toilet boy."

Mario walked away, glaring at Bowser over his shoulder. A few minutes later, Peach came out, and the audience erupted. Bowser took this as an opportunity to pose, and began flexing while shouting out his own name. Mario, now sitting on the VIP row, was busy mocking him.

Peach rolled her eyes and walked up the steps to the stage, shivering in disgust as she thrust the trophy into Bowser's arms. "Congratulations," she said, a forced smile on her face. She began weakly applauding along with the rest of crowd, murmuring half-hearted congratulations as she did. Bowser winked at her and tapped his cheek twice, a smug smile on his face as he shut his eyes and leaned towards her.

In the audience, Mario leaped out of his seat and over the barrier and began running across the field. His pace slowed, and then stopped as he began clutching his sides and laughing. For, onstage, a red Birdo was happily kissing Bowser's cheek instead of Peach, who was standing off to the side, laughing merrily. Bowser opened his eyes, and then screamed once he saw who was kissing him. In a panic, he leapt back, then ran towards the front of the stage falling off.

The crowd roared with laughter, and several fell out of their seats. Bowser snarled and looked up, then sighed when he saw the trophy laying next to him. At least you aren't laughing, he thought glumly.