"Where is Mario?" Peach wondered as she sat on her throne still. "He should have gotten my message by now if he's in the castle." Peach stopped to listen, then smiled as she recognized the two voices going past the throne rooms doors in the hall outside.
"It's a real swordfighting tournament, Dad? Can I go? Can I? Can I?"
"Hold your horses, son. I don't think you're ready yet."
"I am too ready! Just watch!" There was a ssshingas someone drew a sword.
"Whoa! Watch where you swing that thing, Michael!"
"Sorry, Dad." A click as the sword dropped back into its sheath. "So can I go?"
Peach smiled again, listening to the conversation. "Looks like Russ has his hands full with Michael. I wonder how Rachel is going to take this whole idea." About eight years ago, Russ T., captain of the royal guard, and his wife Rachel, Peach's personal servant, had had a son - Michael. He had grown into a boy who was fascinated by his dad's profession of soldiering, and he always wore his little suit of mock armor, complete with sword and shield, an exact miniature of his father's armor. Apparently Michael had heard of the World Swordfighting Tournament this year and was determined to go.
As Russ struggled for an answer to his son's question, the Princess came through the throne room doors and into the hall, stopping in front of the tall Toad Russ T. and his small son Michael, both dressed in armor. Instantly both father and son bowed to her. "Your Highness," Russ greeted her respectfully.
"Hello, Russ. Hello, Michael. Pestering your father today?" Peach smiled at Michael as he reddened.
"I just want to go to the tournament, but Dad says no! I don't see why I can't go!" he exclaimed passionately.
Peach knelt and looked him in the eye. "I think your father knows what's best for you, Michael. You'd better listen to him and obey, even if you don't understand."
"Okay. Maybe next year!" Michael brightened.
The Princess stood. "Russ, did Rachel tell you how she handled the postponement of the tennis tournament?"
"I think she said it was moved to Thursday."
"Thank you. That will give me time to arrange for an important visitor." She turned, reentered the throne room, and summoned her head scribe. In he came, carrying his little desk, stool, pen and paper, and miscellaneous small items. He set up in no time and sat ready for Peach's dictation.
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Bowser stomped the floor of his stone throne room, nearly knocking the trembling Koopa before him off his feet. "Why isn't that thing ready yet?" he asked with a roar.
The Koopa shifted nervously and twiddled his fingers. "W-W-We're terribly sorry, sir, but the Professor is refusing to cooperate. I-It should be done by next week, s-sir, if P-Profess-sor G-Gadd can be c-convinced to help."
"Grrrrrr. Bring the little weasel here. Maybe I can tell him something that'll get him moving!" Bowser chuckled at the thought. "Get out of here and bring him back to me! NOW!" The Koopa scurried from the throne room, and Bowser sat back down on his imposing black iron throne.
"I want that crazy professor to cooperate," he muttered, half to himself. "When he builds that machine, I'll be able to put my own princess on the throne of the Mushroom Kingdom. And no one will know the difference! I'll have my own little puppet to control the kingdom for myself! Gwah hah hah hah!"