I'm Shigeru Miyamoto, creator of Mario, and Nintendo has given me full authorization to publish "fan fiction" as I please.
Not really, but wouldn't that be cool? Really, I have nothing to do with Nintendo. This is my first story here, and I'm hoping to get some good feedback so I can both improve my writing and get motivated to write more.
"My girlfriend and I have been great, but I still just don't know if I'll ever be happy here," I told my therapist from the sofa in her Brookline office, "I feel like there's no place for me in this world."
"What do you mean?" the blond therapist asked me as she adjusted her glasses, "You have a great job in carpentry, you're in a relationship with a beautiful woman."
"I just feel like there must be somewhere else with more adventure," I tried to explain, "Some sort of 'super' world that's all about me, you know?"
"Well," the therapist spoke softly, as if I were a child, "I hate to have to remind you that we already talked about indulging in egocentric delusions." Her tone sharpened. "There is no 'Super Mario World.'"
"I know," I sighed, anticipating her next question.
"Have you been taking your Thorazine?" She peered over her glasses.
I couldn't take it anymore. I snapped, "As a matter of fact, no!"
"Well, I hope you're not self-medicating again, are you?"
Silence.
"Are you?" she continued, "What is it this time? Alcoholism? Amphetamines? Shrooms?"
"Platform shoes," I told her. "Platform shoes," as if that could somehow explain my intense growth in height. Maybe she wouldn't care. She wasn't a very good therapist.
"Platform shoes." she repeated like a robot. I reached for my red hat, which had been resting on my abdomen.
Later, I popped a Thorazine tablet in my mouth as I walked toward the diner around the block. My frustration intensified when I heard the construction equipment. They were building a new high-rise which would be the tallest on the block to date. I felt a slightly embarrassed about my freedom as I walked past my coworkers on the site, careful not to make eye contact and be forced to start an awkward conversation just to be polite. There would be plenty time for that when I worked with them the next day. This was my day off.
Somehow this block had become my life. I had been working on the same construction site for two months. It was around the corner from my therapist's office, which was around the block from the diner at which I was meeting Pauline for lunch, which was beneath my attic apartment. Why hadn't I told Pauline to meet me across town? I felt as if my mind was shrinking relative to my small world, my block. And my block was laughing at me.
At once, I was overcome with embarrassment. Everyone at my construction site must have seen me, and they must have noticed how pathetic I was for staying near work on my day off. My therapist must be back in her office laughing at me. The entire block was laughing at me.
Or maybe it was just the ape that was laughing at me. Yes, by then, the ape was definitely laughing at me. I end up standing face-to-face with a giant, brown ape in a zoo transport truck parked by the curb. It was peering at me through an open window that was just misshapen enough to make me wonder if it was supposed to be there. The ape was looking down at a banana it held in its hand, making a noise that seemed somewhere between breathing and grunting. A laugh. This seemingly random ape spoke for my whole world.
I couldn't speak. I reached toward the ape and knocked the banana out of its hand, quickly backing away as the ape grumbled furiously at the sight of its banana falling out of reach. He wasn't so tough. Taking a banana from a thousand-pound ape is like taking candy from a baby if there's a solid wall between you and it doesn't expect it. I picked the banana up off the ground.
"You want this? Take it easy," I said, glancing around to make sure no one was noticing, "Here, take this!" I chucked my Thorazine pills through the window, hitting the ape in the left eye. I casually walked away, still carrying the banana as the ape began howling and shaking the truck. I had a date to catch down the street.
"Mario!" Pauline called out at the diner. I casually threw the banana in the trash and sat across from her in a booth next to the window. I didn't mention my recent animal-abuse incident just as I had never mentioned what I had been calling my, "platform shoes," which she had never seen me without.
Pauline had already ordered a hero sandwich. "Can I just get an extra hero?" I asked the waitress as she set my place at the table.
"You got a hundred coins for that extra hero?" she asked, pointing at me with her thumb and turning toward Pauline, "Last time this goomba comes down and pays with all nickels."
"I told you, I was cleaning out my couch," I said.
"Well maybe next time you can clean out your couch you can hit up an easy chair and leave a tip."
Oops.
Fortunately, Pauline changed the subject with questions. "When do I get to meet your relatives?" she would ask, and, "What are you going to get me for my birthday?" And finally, "Are we exclusive?" I was taken back.
"Uh, I thought so," I said, confused.
"Oh good!" she said, "because there's this guy who keeps flirting with me and making suggestive comments. He's so persistent and dirty, but I didn't know how to turn him down if we weren't 'dating' dating, you know?"
"Well-"
She interrupted, "He's actually kind of cute, like you, but you should meet him. You guys seem a lot alike, even the same weird fashion sense."
"These are my work clothes," I protested.
"It's your day off!" she noted slowly as her attention shifted to a breaking news report on the TV above the bar.
"Is this King Kong in Brookline?" a reporter asked referring to a live video feed of a raging ape outside a broken truck.
"Not quite as big as King Kong," another reporter commented, "Maybe more like a 'donkey' Kong."
Pauline's eyes widened. "We're on that street!" she said, reaching across the table for my hands.
"Anyways, wearing work clothes now just saves me time tomorrow if I don't want to shower," I said, trying to cover the fear in the back of my mind.
"A nearby construction site has been evacuated in an effort to secure the area, while anyone indoors is being asked to stay there put."
I wondered if I might someday confess from a barstool that I caused an ape to terrorize a city. The glass window to my left shattered.
I turned toward Pauline in disbelief. But I couldn't see her over the ape that was standing on the table, straddling our interlocked hands. The ape looked at me, and followed the path of my arms to Pauline. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled Pauline away and threw her over his shoulders like a sack.
"Help!" Pauline screamed. "Mario! Help! Help!"
I sat there, motionless amidst chaos. People were scattering and screaming everywhere, but time seemed to stop for me. I needed a new watch battery. But replacing the batteries so often results in decreased water resistance. I wasn't exposed to a ton of water or anything. I wasn't a plumber. But the possible inconvenience always led me to buy a new watch in the past. What would I do this time? I usually buy the more expensive watch for the functionality, only to replace it when the battery dies. But I thought then that maybe I should have just bought a cheaper one so I wouldn't mind replacing the whole watch when the battery died. I was worried about something else dying at the time too. What was that?
My thoughts faded from disbelief to duty. I jumped up in my booth, jumped on the table, then jumped out the window, chasing the ape to the construction site.
Try as I had, it had become impossible for me to stay away from work on my day off.