"MARIO! OH MADONNA, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"
The Toads did a patdown on the green plumber and tied his hands and feet with triple braid rope, and pulled tight.
Luigi was facing the wrong end of the Brooklyn Bridge, and frantically turned his head to face his brother, who seemed indifferent, pleading for his life.
"Hey, if this is about Daisy, then I promise, first thing when I get home I'm gonna whack her. She ain't gonna rat no more, PLEASE!"
The cement mixer stopped, and the Toads poured the mixture into the container, covering Luigi's boots as he continued screaming.
"Fratello! Please, you wouldn't do this to your own blood over such a petty thing! PLEASE! I BEG YOU! MERCY!"
Mario stepped up on the edge, and rested the shovel between his legs like a walking cane. He did not turn to face Luigi as he began talking, who was still screaming and yelling for help.
Little did he know Mario had paid off the cops and the Lakitus who patrolled along the bridge for jumpers.
"Luigi, my brother. Will you please shut up for a second? Luigi? I said..."
Mario raised the handle of the shovel and hit him across the face.
"Shut up."
A momentary pause ensued, and the red plumber continued.
"This ain't about Daisy, or that time where you disrespected the sitdown with the Koop Brothers by shitting in the fruit punch bowl in broad daylight."
"...C'mon, I had bad nachos for lunch that day-"
"You remember when you said those mushrooms you bought from Hell's Kitchen were red?"
"...yeah?"
Mario stuck the shovel underneath the box and lifted, tipping Luigi over.
"They were purple."
"MARIO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The green man sped downwards into the river with his hands bound, landing in the water with a deafening splash, as his brother watched.
"I fed that shit to my dog, he died. That's for you Mr. Pebbles."
Mario spat and gave the river the finger. He turned around and asked his henchman.
"Who else is left on the list?"
The Toad pulled out a sheet of paper covered in blood.
"Santa Claus... Tommy Nook... Marlo Stanfield..."
"We're going after that fat fuck next. He didn't send that Playboy magazine I asked for."
"Sure boss."
With that, the three men entered the Lincoln and drove off, blasting Meghan Trainor and Lana Del Ray songs from the stereo as they ran over every lamp post and human being on the road in fucking New York City, turning the sedan into nothing more than a conflagrated, burning wreck by the time they reached the restaurant, where they had gnocchi for dinner.
THE END
-ending theme: seinfield-