It was nine o' clock.

At night, the Mushroom Kingdom's teenagers liked to get out on the town. They hit the shops, the clubs and the parties wherever they could find them. Some of the boys liked to go cruising on Mushroom Avenue to show off their cars or race each other. They liked to bring their girlfriends with them so they could say, "Hey! Check me out! I've got a big Dodge iand/i a fine piece of ass in the passenger's seat!"

And then there was a different kind of crowd: Middle-aged, unmarried men. They hit the pubs to go drinking or walked around doing hardly much of anything. The epitome of this older crowd was a man named Wario, and his brother Waluigi. They were a pathetic pair of the sorriest morons anyone had ever laid eyes on. Wario was a fat, ugly, disgusting slob who wore hideous yellow and purple as though he didn't already look bad enough (And did I mention that he's really hairy?). Waluigi was tall and thin, and French-looking. They had no jobs and for the most part, everybody hated both of them.

Wario and Waluigi also liked to go cruising. At nine o' clock, they were eating in a Taco Bell as the parking lot outside filled up with cars. The man who'd worked that time shift for the past several years was standing at the door with a ring of keys and tapping his foot impatiently.

"I told you we're closing early tonight! Can't you hear me or what?" he shouted.

"And I told you we're having a discussion!" Wario shouted back.

"What the hell does that matter? We're CLOSING! Finish those tacos and get out of here!"

"Slow down, Wario," said Waluigi. "You're slobbering all over the map."

"Right, Wal," said Wario. "So what are we looking at here?"

"I told you, it's a map of Bowser's Castle. I managed to buy it from a certain Koopa. The championship race is going to be held on this track next week. The prize is a lot of money this year. I've heard rumors that they're even giving away something…special. So we need to win! And we can't have you doing anything stupid like you did last year."

"I got up on the front of the kart to moon the racers behind us and I ended up farting in your face. I thought you were over that by now."

"I'm not. We lost a lot of money because of you. Even though we tampered with Mario's steering, he still managed to pass us at the finish—like he does every single year. I'm really tired of seeing his fucking bumper sticker that says, "It doesn't matter if you win or lose—It's the fun that counts." Fun my ASS. It's the money that counts, so this time we're inot/i going to be looking at that stupid slogan of his when we cross the checkered line. Do you understand me?"

"Of course! Hand me that taco over there."

"Now, let's take a look at the course," said Waluigi. He took out a red pen and circled a series of points on the map. "These are the places where a racer can fall off the track for a time penalty. Bowser's Castle has a lot of those dreaded lava pits where you can cost yourself the race if you're not good with the brakes. If we want to win this year, that's just what we should do—tamper with Mario's screechers. Are you with me?"

"Of course! I can already smell the money!"

Waluigi rolled up the map and stuffed it down his pants. Wario spit out his beef and said, "Holy shit! I can't believe I was touching that!"

"Let's go get on the road," said Waluigi. They left the restaurant, leaving the man with the keys very satisfied that they were finally out of his hair. "I hate those dipshits," he muttered. "Every god damn night…"

He turned around, and stopped. "Hey!" he shouted with a sudden revelation. "Those two are planning to sabotage the big race!"

But before he could go anywhere to do anything about it, something dropped out of the shadows from behind him and hit him on the head. He blacked out instantly.

Wario and Waluigi went outside to the parking lot. The cruisers usually gathered in that lot before hitting the road all at once. Wario unlocked his car, the ugliest piece of shit on the planet. It was purple and yellow; spray-painted on the trunk was Wario's face. It was moronic, shameless, and egotistical, as well as looking like vomit out of a hog's ass, but Wario felt it said something about who he was. You could probably say he was right.

"Hey!" someone shouted. A young Hispanic man rolled up in a large yellow truck and stopped beside the two of them. "This ya car, Fatty?" he asked.

"Yeah ya fucking beaner. You like it?"

"Yeah! I love it!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! So much, I'm gonna do some maintenance on it for ya!"

"Well, I don't think it needs…"

The young man threw his car into reverse and slammed into Wario's car. "There!" he said. "I did some reverse maintenance! See ya later, white trash!"

"That joke was so bad in so many ways," said Waluigi.

"Who the fuck cares?" screamed Wario. "Look at what he did to my car! Are you looking at what he did to my car?"

"Yes, I am. He put a scratch on the front."

"On MY face! He scratched the paint on my beautiful face!" Wario started crying.

"Get over it," said Waluigi.

Wario sighed. "All right, but that guy's gonna get what's coming to him."

"Of course he is," said Waluigi. "NObody fucks with the…what's our last name again?"

"I honestly do not know," said Wario.

"Huh…well then…we're the Wario Brothers! How do you like that?"

Wario grinned. "It has a nice ring to it."

"All right! Now let's go get back at that dumbass!"

The brothers hopped in the car and Wario started it up. He saw the yellow truck leaving the parking lot and moved into pursuit. Hitting Mushroom Avenue, he sped up on the driver's left. Waluigi rolled down the window and shouted, "Hey! How fast can that trash heap go?"

The man revved his engine in response, letting them hear that it was loud and powerful. But when the light turned green, Wario shot out ahead of him in an instant. His car hit 60 miles an hour in less than fifty seconds. The yellow truck quickly became a dot in the rearview mirror.

However, Wario was never satisfied with merely winning. He always needed to rub it in his opponent's face. As though he had forgotten he was driving, he climbed into the backseat and dropped his pants, sticking his fat hairy ass against the back windshield. "AAAAAAAH!!!!" screamed Waluigi. He dove wildly across the divider and grabbed the steering wheel, but the car was already out of control.

The wheels nicked the curb and car spun, causing Wario to stumble backwards and land on top of Waluigi. Waluigi's nose was jammed up Wario's anus when Wario ripped out the product of thirteen bean tacos. The car, meanwhile, flew off the road and mowed through an aspen grove before it cascaded down the embankment into a river. Wario and Waluigi threw open their doors and dove out before the big splash, and swam to the shore.

Waluigi wrenched Wario's shoulders and brought them face to face. "**** you!" he roared. "Don't you ever think about anything before you do it?"

"What are you so angry about?" Wario retorted. "My car's what just got trashed! Do you know how much money that cost me?"

"Of course I fucking do! I paid for more than half of it because you can never get a goddamn job!"

"Shut up, Wal! Just shut…up…" Wario's voice became weak as he trailed off.

"Huh?" said Waluigi. He saw that Wario was looking up to the top of the bank and followed his gaze. There were several people standing there. As they watched, five more approached. The glow of the lights from the city illuminated them and showed they were grotesquely deformed. Two were missing an arm or a leg. An old woman's arm was bent out of shape, twisted and bulging where the joints stuck out further than they were supposed to. A baby started crying.

"What the…Hell…" Waluigi muttered under his breath. A young boy started to approach them. Out on the main road, they heard sirens. The police were coming to the crash site. They would catch on that Wario had been driving recklessly and there were few enough points remaining on his driver's license that he was sure to lose it.

"I'm scared, Wal," said Wario. "Let's get the Hell out of here."

Then, as they climbed up the bank, the people descended behind them and started wading the river to the car. They would try to salvage whatever parts they could and sell them, no doubt. Neither of them would ever see that car again.