I do not own any fat Italians, regrettably. Shame... my fantasies will have to wait...

100m. Three more rivets to go. Two more Fires to jump. One more purse to collect.

Well, it was supposed to be one. So Pauline had said. Then again, Jumpman had spent most of his lives recovering her hoard of purses which she regularly, somehow, managed to drop around. Sometimes they were found, soggy, in a rain puddle on the streets (at least, he grimaced, he hoped it was rain...) Occasionally he had to pluck one out of a playful Chain Chomp's jaws. And, recently, he discovered one under the bedcovers in his house.

Under Luigi's bedcovers. He still needed to have a word about that one.

Two more rivets.

Jumpman digressed. That little topic's best left for another time, after he got this chunky chimp sorted with. And fended off those darn Animal Rights campaigners. Heck of a nuisance they were.

One more rivet.

He was all for equality, but last time he checked, stealing a meek carpenter's girlfriend and posing such a large health and safety problem by flinging barrels around wasn't exactly an ascribed right.

The last rivet fell, and Donkey Kong with it, screaming till his skull smacked into the platform below. Jumpman crouched down, peering at the unconscious gorilla sprawled on the girder below. He frowned. Hopefully there wasn't any serious damage. He couldn't afford to replace it if it dented.

"My darling!"

He straightened up, beaming at his girlfriend above. Pauline was waving down to him, eyes glistening with relief. Her hero had won, her life was saved! Lord knows where she'd be if her purse had burnt up.

Jumpman climbed up the ladder, fixed on Pauline with a huge grin. He tipped his cap; as he hoped, Pauline swooned. He rushed towards his girlfriend, and they locked in a triumphant embrace. This was what he was waiting for.

She withdrew a second later, hands gripping her purse protectively. "Oh," she cried, "I missed you so!" Like Jumpman before it, she wrapped her arms around her purse, eyes closed to all other sensations.

The hug lasted ten seconds. Jumpman's patience lasted four. He reached 0m in 47.

On the bottom floor, he paced angrily across the dark room, kicking the drum-barrels out of his tantrum. The gratitude! Well, that was the last time he'd lift a foot to help out a damsel in distress. He'd rather have a blue shell following him for the rest of his games than rescue any 'oh-so-pretty-princess' that happened to get foisted off by some pervert monster. Especially not on a regular basis, or across the worlds for just a slice of overbaked cake. 100m worth of climbing and monkey faeces (it had run out of barrels), and not even a kiss! He rubbed his face with a dirty glove. He froze, sniffing his glove.

...okay, maybe neglecting to kiss him wasn't entirely unjustifiable. And with that, perhaps he should get around to having a wash...

"Hey! Hold it!"

Jumpman paused mid-stride, surprised at the acknowledgement. This was rare for him- very few knew him, and quite frankly, who'd be interested in a jumping bore like him?

"You're Mr. Jumpman, aren't you? Please, I wanna say something!" begged the speaker, who Jumpman could now see with the light bursting through a window onto him. It was a Toad, one with a quirky green woollen jumper over him, the sort uncool grannies knit for their sons that they strangely lose in their wardrobes. What was strange about this guy was that he hadn't. He was young- seconds into adulthood, perhaps?- as his gawky blue eyes and restless fidgeting gave away. The guy's orange head-spots shook with his stuttering. He was tightening, loosening, straightening his yellow-striped tie unconsciously, heedless of the combination of sweat and drool dampening his clothing. Jumpman could laugh. The way he was acting, you'd think the hero of the Mushroom Kingdom was before him!

Jumpman... jumped, to get his focus. He really needed to develop some other actions...

"Eeehhh, sorry!" the Toad apologised. "My name's Dolor- it's Latin you know!- and it's just that... yourmoustacheitissoamazingshinyandsmoothinspiringcanItouchitplease?!"

Jumpman couldn't really remember the last time he gave someone his awkward silence, but now was as good a time as any.

"...um..." The Toad inhaled, exhaled, tried again. "What I meant was, you've a great moustache. I saw you getting the best of that animal, and Donkey Kong too! Your facial hair just glistened the whole time, and you probably got the stars knotted up in there, with its shine... Can I... have a feel?"

Jumpman stared at him for a moment. A long moment. 'Then again,' he thought, 'maybe saving beauties would be a good distraction...'

In the end, Jumpman told Dolor- a good name his parents chose, he thought- that his moustache was, 'regrettably', just a Fuzzy that had jumped into his face. That seemed to settle matters long enough so that he could walk out; though, sensing the Toad's sudden doubt, he rushed the path back home.

For now, he was busy arranging a few phone calls. He had cooled off somewhat since escaping Pauline, and rang her to clarify their status. Both apologised profusely, but in the end, agreed that they could only really be friends and should remain at that.

He also made a request of her. This Dolor guy really unnerved him, and he realised how determined those weirdos could be. If he knew his name, Jumpman was sure that he could, somehow, track him down to the depths of the Underwhere. That was how stalkers worked.

So, to cut him off, he asked Pauline, Luigi, everyone he knew, to stop calling him 'Jumpman.' Instead, they were to address him by his birth name- 'Mario.' 'Probably will never catch on,' he ruminated, 'but it has its charms too, I guess...'

'And, of course, a change of career may help me avoid that Toad too... Hmm... Y'know, I've always been curious about this whole plumbing industry. I may start there...

...and maybe deal with Luigi about that purse in his bed, too...'

Hello! So, as the summary hopefully suggests (maybe it doesn't- I hate summaries...) this piece is about a stalker throughout Mario's lengthy history. As of now, I'm considering 25 chapters- 25 years- covering some events up to Mario's 25th anniversary, which was... 4 years ago! How time flies.

I won't be covering the games/ times etc. I'm unconformable with, or all of them- I'd need 25 years to pay homage to his every appearance! There's no point in making a story of the storyless; though if someone wants to add a stalker to Mario's Picross, I'll read it!

Hope you enjoy!