(A/N: This is a one-shot… Completely about one of my favourite characters, okay? And forgive me if you think Dry Bones is a she.)

Bombing the Place

Dry Bones clacked himself together, making a noise that viewers laughed at. In his mind, he flushed. It was embarrassing, but he tried not to care. He prepared for the race, trying to keep his mind off passers-by. He was going to be fine if he concentrated solely on racing.

3. 2. He got ready for a little beginning of the race boost. 1! He shot forward, already working on a power-slide. He was in control. Driving his Dry Bomber was simple. The course? Donut Plains, Banana Cup! Dry Bones hated it, but he needed to win. He needed the fame, the glory, the sheer moment of victory.

Steering expertly, he rounded a corner. Gah, what was that music in the background? He smashed through an item box. A blue shell, huh? What place was he in, to need such a thing? 5th? Oh, no…

He threw the shell forward, and, clacking with satisfaction, he drove on, still on his first lap. He pressed the pedal harder, urging his Kart to go faster. He power slid frequently. Okay. This was more like it! He spun his head around to check on who was behind him. Daisy. He might have some trouble keeping her behind him, but he was going to try to keep her there.

Dry Bones smashed through another item box. A Mushroom! He power slid again, and then used the Mushroom. He was right behind the person in second place. Who was it? He couldn't see. Whoops! He'd forgotten to spin his head back around. He wondered how he'd ever managed to drive properly in the first place…

Now he swivelled his head around, staring at his surroundings. He was in a clump of grass, still on his first lap. He cursed, clacking. People were on their second laps already! This was going to be strenuous, he knew, if he wanted to win. And boy, did he ever!

The bone pile of a character braced himself. He was going to cheat. He'd heard of cheaters, and they'd always done drastic things. Eighth place needed something drastic. Going through an item box, he noted with joy that he'd received three Mushrooms. Mushrooms for speed and shortcuts. Mushrooms that would help him on his way to winning, right?

Reaching a clump of grass, he sped through it, with the use of a Mushroom. He power slid for an exceeding number of times. His arms were hurting from the stress and repetitiveness of pushing his Kart's analog stick back and forth to create a power slide. He hurt, even though he was dead. 5th place again, he found out. Not too bad, he thought.

But it was the third lap! He clacked in worry. He was never going to make first place! He pressed random buttons, and pushed different gears. Dry Bones sped forward in his Kart. Strange, he thought, that he still had his Mushrooms, if he'd rushed forward. He pressed a button marked 'A.' Wrong button. B? No. Ah… P. He pressed it multiple times. Odd, he'd never seen a P button before; but whatever, if he was going to win.

Dry Bones sped through grass clumps and the road… He was nearing the finish line… Someone was ahead of him! Confidently, he used a Mushroom and overtook that person. The living bag of bones had won the race!

Rather than seeing congratulatory faces, however, he saw looks of hatred and dislike, disappointment and rage. What had he done wrong? Oh. Right. Just 'cause he'd cheated, and won. Everyone cheats, he thought. I just started.

Mario walked forward to congratulate him. Dry Bones was grateful. At least SOMEONE was a good sport. Peach, who hadn't participated in the race, told him he'd been great in the middle of a crisis. Another nice person. Luigi, slightly grumpily, but overall a good sport, offered a hand. "I almost won…" grumbled Luigi.

Dry Bones clacked in sympathy, as if to say, "I'm sorry you couldn't win, but winning belongs to me."

There were three more races to claim the cup, so others might be able to redeem themselves, Dry Bones realized. He felt that he had an inferiority complex; he didn't think he was going to win. Everyone else was better than him. But he would try.

The second course in the Banana Cup was Frappe Snowland. Dry Bones was fairly confident; he would probably win this course.

He made the mini boost before the race started, and drove/power slid steadily. Dry Bones would have laughed if he could have. Instead, he clacked in excitement, unprepared for what could be a certain blow to his pride. He took first place, which was a dangerous move. Dry Bones didn't realize that, though, so he continued driving at a nice, manageable pace, so as not to drive into an icy wall.

Whoosh! He heard the noise, and cringed slightly. His bones drooped to mimic a live Koopa's cringe. A blue shell was after him now… He slowed down slightly, until the person in second place reached him. He snickered by clacking. They were neck and neck; that close. And FWOOSH! The shell bombed onto him, but fortunately it hit the person behind him. Luigi.

The pain, Dry Bones thought, was not felt. And that was right, because he was dead. He was dead yet alive. But he clacked quickly so viewers could assume that he was pained. Luigi groaned behind him, and was slowed for a moment, as was Dry Bones.

Then they sped forward again, Dry Bones taking the lead. He was power sliding! The Lakitu held up a sign in front of him. Final lap! He rattled in relief, and continued racing. Item box! Green shell! He held the shell behind him, waiting for someone to drive into it.

The following noise (a noise of pain) assured him that the shell had made a success of itself. Sorry, Luigi, thought Dry Bones. But he'd had to do that, or else… the unspeakable would have happened. He wouldn't have stayed in first place! He continued power sliding, until he reached the finish line. He crossed it by swerving to the side, while saving a second or two.

Another success of a race! He was driving well today. It must have been luck, though. But that was just the inferiority complex speaking.

Again, few happy faces were seen, as the racers took a short break. The strain in their feet from pressing on the gas pedal was great. Their arms, as well, were in pain from throwing items to pushing an analog stick back and forth. They were unhappy because not only had they lost, but yes, they had been put into pain in trying to win.

Dry Bones collapsed in a heap of unanimated bones. Some spiteful racers stepped on him in this state. Luckily, he wasn't harmed. He needed a strategy for the next race. The pile of bones rearranged itself to form Dry Bones again. Heh—he'd forgotten to use the P button that last race, yet he'd still managed to win.

Maybe he didn't need to be strategic in order to win this stupid Banana Cup. It was going to be totally easy, right? Then he stopped these thoughts. Overconfidence was dangerous. Augh, he was going to lose the final two races… 8th place for each of them, it was obvious. He lacked the skill a good driver needed. He'd won purely by luck! He shook himself, twisted himself, and collapsed again.

It was either the superiority complex or the inferiority complex he was going to have to go with. And the next race was starting in two minutes! Which was he going to choose? Inferiority made him more aware, and it was nice to be surprised with winning a race when he didn't believe in himself. HOWEVER, the lack of confidence would have its drawbacks. Depression was certainly not worth driving with. It would slow him down and he wouldn't be able to push his analog stick as fast.

Overconfidence would keep him at a steady pace, but if people passed him, he would feel no fear. He would think that each thing he did was absolutely perfect and without fault; if he fell of a cliff, he would think he'd done it for a good reason.

Dry Bones had to make up his mind. Inferiority, he thought. I used it for the last two races, and won anyways, whereas superiority has never won anything for me.

Racers readied themselves for the third course. They hopped into their Karts; spiteful looks were thrown at Dry Bones. He clacked at them amusedly. It didn't hurt—their hate for him made him laugh as only a pile of bones can.

Third course—Bowser's Castle, the second one. Darn, thought Dry Bones. This is going to suck… Man, I hate this place more than any other. Well, it's at least at the top ten of my most hated courses. But he was going to try and win. Luigi couldn't stop him! No one could, at the way he was cheating.

3. 2. Again, he prepared for his mini boost, and again, he succeeded. 1! He shot forward, and rapidly pressed P, unfortunately not looking at his surroundings. The superiority complex was kicking in, letting the inferiority take a break. It wasn't looking too good for him now…

He fell into a pool of lava. Oh, crap, he thought. Well, that said it all right there—he was sure as heck going to lose now. The Lakitu filming him picked him up. He clattered in thanks, and realized how far behind he was.

Dry Bones drove carefully now. Screw the P button, he thought to himself. There were going to be a lot of items he could use in place of that magical button. He was snaking, trying his best to catch up. Okay. He clacked in appreciation of his driving efforts. 3rd place. Great!

Better not to let the superiority come back, though. He maintained a cool, steady demeanour, and calmly drove ahead. He passed Wario, who instantly threw a red shell at him. But Dry Bones countered it with a green shell held behind his Kart. He drove—a teeny bit faster now. He was stressed out. HE NEEDED TO WIN!

Luigi was going in for the third lap. Dry Bones was right behind him. He snaked some more, as Luigi didn't care for doing so. He was going to stay right behind Greenie. His eyes focussed on the plumber in front of him.

Smashing through an item box, the driving bones received three red shells. That wasn't right; people in second place didn't get great items like these. Oh, well. Let the paranoia end, he pleaded in his mind. He threw a shell forward, awaiting a cry of pain or shock that was sure to be emitted from Luigi's mouth. And sure enough, it came. He laughed, clattering and clapping, and continued his power slides, which were turning desperate and came even more frequently.

The finish line was right ahead of him! He threw his other two shells forward. Luigi was instantly hit. Smirking, or at least trying to, Dry Bones crossed the line with ease. Thirty points, so far! Weege had gotten… twenty-four. Sucker. Even if he got second place, or even third, and Luigi got first, he would still win… by two points.

Dry Bones would have to try and place third, second, or first for the last course. What was the last course anyways?

Hopping out of his Kart, and landing in the waiting area, Dry Bones was glared at by Wario, and was congratulated by Mario. He clacked at Luigi, in order to find out what the next course was.

Luigi, having strangely understood the clacking, said, "The next course is… uh, Baby Park. You know, my park. Well, Mario's too, but you get the gist… Oh, and just to tell you, I don't care if I get second place for this Cup. It'll just mean that I have to practice more. I'll beat you, one day, you know…"

Dry Bones clacked in friendly agreement. So that was the next course! Simple, too… Just a big, long, oval. No. Wait. Alert, I have a superiority complex attacking me, he thought. He drooped to the floor, his bones scattering. His skull looked around. The area was composed of healthy, vibrant, green, grass. Trees and flowers grew around him. Nearby, a road was strategically placed, for Karts to be parked in, not interfering with the scenery at all.

This area belonged to all the racers. Peaceful, thought Dry Bones, but there are too many happy things here. How contradictory of what's going to happen next. When we race at Baby Park.

Luigi yelled at Dry Bones, "It's time to race! Pick yourself up, and literally!"

With a slight clacking, Dry Bones put himself together again, and calmly placed himself in his tank. The Dry Bomber was 'the bomb,' figuratively speaking, of course.

And again, 3, 2, and 1 were signalled to start the race. Dry Bones immediately began snaking. Power sliding back and forth… Back and forth… Faster and faster and faster. He reached an item box, and appropriately drove through it. Red shell. Who was ahead of him?

Aha! Wario. But he was in second place! Shouldn't Luigi be in front of me? he thought. Where was Luigi? He shook himself; really, he shouldn't bother about such trifles as of yet; he needed to CONCENTRATE ON THE RACE, darnit! (Luigi sat slumped in his Kart, not bothering to even drive, because he knew Dry Bones would win anyways.)

With joy, Dry Bones sped along the track, not even pressing the P button. Who needed to cheat, if they had the skills? Well, 'skills' meaning 'a little bit of confidence.' He threw the red shell at Wario, and quickly passed him. He then began snaking and curving around the wide turns, which won the race for him. The fact that he'd practiced a lot on this racetrack was also rather helpful.

At the waiting area, Dry Bones was met with sullen, forced smiles, but a few he saw were genuine. He was handed the Banana Cup, which was all golden and shiny and new. He felt himself grow warm with pride, and he felt his bones grow a slight bit softer. They weren't as brittle anymore. He felt like a winner.

Well, he did, until he heard a racer say, "He cheated. He kept pressing a button to make him speed up!" We're not going to go into specifics to say exactly who would accuse him of such a thing, such a crime.

The warmth from his win vanished, and he felt hard and brittle, like a piece of hard candy, again. It had been true—but it wasn't his fault that a P button had been installed into his Kart that day!

Mario opened his mouth to say something. His eyes were fixed on Dry Bones. "I, as founder of Mario Kart, find it urgent to ask you this, Dry Bones. Is that true? Did you cheat?" he questioned.

Dry Bones proceeded to clatter and clacker in reply. Translated, his clackering meant, "There was a P button, so I pressed it. But I didn't use it too much."

Mario nodded, and stated that Dry Bones was still the official winner. He had done nothing against the rules of Mario Karting. They were to use only their Karts and the items provided—Dry Bones had done so; his Kart had just come with something extra, something special that he could use.

Dry Bones laughed, clackering his bones together, making others laugh at him in jealousy. Earlier, he might have been one of those cruel laughers, but now he was laughing at himself, laughing at his joy, laughing at his pure, fair, perfect, win.

He had won. It was a great feeling, to win, he thought, but it was even better if someone tried to stop you from winning, but you won anyways. He felt that that had been a hilarious moment, after he had been relieved of guilt. Win-lose-win-win-WIN!

Winning was great.

All you have to do is try, he thought, and you can win, and you can enjoy winning. You can achieve what you wanted to achieve, and you can finally feel content, yet willing to move on. I, for one, am going to try to get gold trophies for every single cup in 150cc. The Banana Cup was my first. I'm saving the Shell Cup for last, so onward to the Mushroom Cup!

I like winning.