Foreword: It's awfully late (timewise, not schedulewise. I'm actually exactly on time for this chapter) so please excuse my weird A/N's today.
I happen to love this chapter. Particularily the end...the first few bits aren't nearly as exciting, and may even seem rushed at places. Sorry about that, but they are. I wanted to make certain I got the exciting bit in, which I did, so I really hope it excites you as much as it excites me.
Disclaimer: I do not own any Mario characters or related material. If I did, the world would be a much more Bowser-focused place.
Bowser would have been pleased to have passed the physical inspection room, but he was still in a sour mood. He was hungry, Peach wasn't nearby, and the room he was in was too dark to even see himself. What a gyp.
Around him, there were occasionally bursts of light and sounds rivaling explosions. A lakitu buzzed over to Bowser, his headlamp almost blinding the koopa king. He seemed to be yelling directions, but Bowser couldn't hear over the roars, combustions, stomps, and other noises. But he could see him frantically directing Bowser to the small room on the right, so Bowser walked in.
This room was tiny and still dark, but much quieter. And he was alone. "This is stupid," Bowser grumbled to himself. "I'm supposed to be spending my last day with Peach, and instead I have to sit in a stupid closet while I wait to pretend to be me."
A door opened, letting in a bit of light and a lot of sound while the judges walked in. The door shut, but with a click, an old light bulb went on overhead. They were so covered in fire-proof suits and shock-resistant paddings, Bowser couldn't even tell what species they were.
The central judge said, "Welcome to the Special Effects Portion. We will begin with some of Bowser's most appreciated talents, which may or may not be possible with your costuming choice. If you cannot perform a task, simply say 'skip'. Do not hold back. Do not fear for our safety. Perform each skill with the most accuracy as possible."
Bowser grinned. This was exactly what he loved to do…and this time, nobody could get mad at his lack of propriety. Not even Peach; they were literally asking for it.
The judge continued, "Please hide in your shell."
"Seriously?" Bowser drawled, his face falling. "All the awesome things I can do, and you want me to hide?"
The judge merely repeated his request, and Bowser sighed. He jumped just a bit, popping his entire body into his shell with mastered ease. The shell clattered to the floor, pleasing the judges as they scrawled their comments. "Please complete a ground-pound," the judge requested. Almost bored, but determined to show off, Bowser flipped twice before coming down hard on the ground, sending shockwaves through the room.
"Please stomp on the ground as loud as you can." The walls shook. "Please bite this piece of indent gel." He snapped it clean. "Please scratch this metal plating." He sheared it into pieces. "Please return to your shell and spin." With his speed, Bowser lifted himself off the ground. "Please roar as loud as you can." His deafening roar was reverberating too loud for the judges to continue for a few solid minutes.
The judges muttered quietly among themselves, glancing at Bowser every now and then. The central judge spoke up yet again. "We are now going to test your vulnerability. By law, we require you to speak up when you cannot stand the pain any longer. Cause-Play is in no way responsible for any damage you retain and will not accept any law-suits. Retiring to your shell is acceptable, but points will accumulate slower."
Bowser grinned again, stomping his feet into a 'ready' position. "Bring it on," he seethed. The judges pressed switches, triggering sweltering hot conditions, freezing cold conditions, smooth stones lightly tossed at him from the sides, a downpour of harder stones, pointed rocks from all directions, and even small explosions and bursts of flame. Bowser kept his position firm. Finally, they hit their last switch and a chain-chomp, dangling from the ceiling, swung directly at Bowser. He tensed himself but refused to give in to his pride and hide. The chain-chomp hit him squarely in the chest, and except for a flinch, Bowser didn't seem to mind.
The judges hit another switch, muttering to each other again. They were out of ammo. "What," Bowser chuckled, hiding any pain he felt from the onslaught of physical abuse, "no thwomps?"
The judges ignored his joke and turned to Bowser once again. "For the final porition of the Special Effects Portion, we need you to do your best to use fire breath. Please make the largest, hottest, and longest flame you can breathe or artificially create once we turn the lights back off."
"THAT'S what I'm talkin' about!" Bowser roared, rubbing his hands together eagerly. The lights flipped off. "Get ready for some awesome!" He got himself back in the 'ready' position, throwing his hands back as he let out the biggest flame he could muster.
The fire; shades of red, orange, and blue; licked the judges' flame-resistant suits and curled around the walls of the room. He lit the room better than the light bulb ever had, making it hotter than the vulnerability testing had managed. With the reverberating flames, Bowser could feel his own mane singing, but he just kept breathing. After a good while of the onslaught, his flame began to die down. Bowser coughed out one last fireball and held his throat. It hadn't been that dry since he'd last tried to…well…not for awhile.
The room went dark, and began to cool back down to normal. The light flipped on, and the central judge had his hand out to meet Bowser's. "Congratulations," he said, "You've gotten a higher score than anyone we've judged all day. Please head out to Doris at the front desk where you checked in- she will give you the ticket and your new scoring number for the finals and awards ceremony. This is a great honor, and I can't wait to see how you do."
After they shook hands, the judge grabbed Bowser's arm with his free hand. "And, off the record, I do hope you win. Your arsenal of skills is amazing! Doubtlessly the best Bowser impression I've ever seen. You could probably fool Princess Peach herself!"
Bowser took the tickets, inspecting them curiously. "Fool her…marry her…I'll do something." He smirked at the judges and pried the door open. Bowser walked through the large, dark room, noticing the bursts of light as rooms around him glowed red. I bet my room was reddest, he thought smugly.
The lakitu began waving and shouting incomprehensible words again, leading Bowser and two other "Bowser"s who had likewise just finished testing. The group headed out the door, one "Bowser" leaving through the front door, another going to talk to his friends who likewise were no longer competing. Bowser trudged on to the Clubba at the desk.
She spied him out of the corner of her eyes, and sighed. Although she was reviewing the papers of the people in line, she spoke clearly to Bowser, "There yis a lyine for a ryeeson. Get to the back of the lyine and wait your tyurn."
Bowser slapped down on the desk, his tickets poking out from under his hand. "I'm an exception," he growled.
Curiously, Doris put down the registration and picked up the tickets. She looked them over and nodded. "Jyust one moment, please." She finished with the copy-cats in front of the line and proceeded to process Bowser's information.
After a few awkward moments of those next in line giving Bowser the stink-eye, Doris finally had all of Bowser's information. She passed him a brochure, a schedule, a new number, and a buzzer. "Please keep all of this with you as it is all nyecessary for the cyompetition later tonight. Congryatulations and I hope you do well."
Bowser snatched his things, grumbled his thanks, and looked around. The line Peach had joined was probably the spookiest thing Bowser had seen for awhile…endless girls with long, blonde hair and flowing pink dresses. Some of them pretty, most of them disappointing, and only one truly beautiful.
She looked just like everyone around her, but when that Peach turned around, her golden hair spun behind her like a halo. Her eyes shone with patience and her face lit up as she laughed. Bowser could tell that the wannabe behind her had just said some joke. Peach's bright blue eyes twinkled, and her dainty, perfect movements seemed just as beautiful. Even if the women around her weren't so bad at trying to look beautiful, Bowser supposed he could tell her apart just from that twinkle in her eyes. And the lump in his throat was a pretty big hint, too.
The koopa king lumbered over to her as quickly as his hulking size could allow. Peach was so engulfed in her new koopa friend's conversation that she almost didn't notice Bowser approaching. When she caught sight of Bowser, her eyes lit up in a way that the jokes had never managed. "Bowser, what are you doing over here?" she chirped, visibly restraining herself from leaving the line and running over to him.
"I finished and I wanted to see you!" He answered proudly.
"You finished?" Peach and her new friend answered in tandem. "But there are so many Bowsers!"
Bowser looked casually over to the squirrely lakitu judging the Peaches. These ladies seemed to interpret a quick answer to a quick question as an opportunity to gush on for as long as they could about whatever popped into their heads. "Yeah, but Bowser impersonators apparently think I'm incapable of saying more than a sentence. And your wannabes…"
Peach peered over at the current Peach being judged and laughed. "Okay. Good point. So what are you going to do until I'm done?"
"I was gonna stay here, with you," Bowser answered, as if it was the most obvious thing he could say.
"You can't stay here," Peach's friend behind her said. "Unless you're in line to be in the contest, they'll kick you out. And you're obviously not in line to be Peach."
"But they'd let me stay if I was, right?" Bowser growled. With a quizzical look, the friend nodded.
Bowser pouted, and then looked around. Spotting a young goomba not to far, he hollered, "Hey, you! Munchkin!"
The goomba looked around, apparently used to the nick-name, and caught Bowser's eye. He responded to the koopa king's beckoning finger with eyes like silver dollars. He almost took off in the opposite direction, but Bowser quickly flashed a handful of koopa coins he'd taken from his shell. Greedily, the goomba ran towards him.
"I need you to go to the gift store and buy me a blonde Peach wig and the biggest pink dress they sell. I'll give you a hundred koopa coins…you can keep the change. But if you don't come back, I'll find you and I'll beat you into a pancake."
"Yessir!" the goomba squeaked, taking the money and running. Pleased, Bowser budged himself into line between Peach and her acquaintance-friend.
From three people behind, a rather tall look-alike started complaining, "Hey, fatso! You can't do that! We've been waiting in line for hours!"
Bowser spun around and glared at her. "What's your point? I wanna stand here. By her. You got a problem with that?"
"Bowser, don't," Peach muttered, grabbing his bicep. "You shouldn't call attention to yourself."
"I wanna stand by you, Peach! And that lady thinks that I shouldn't."
"Well, they have been waiting in line. It's not fair for you to cut like that."
"Listen to your girlfriend, doofus!" the woman screeched, stomping her imitation Peach-pump. "Get to the back of the line!"
Bowser snarled as he turned to face her. Feeling Peach's hand on his arm, he tried to keep down his temper. "I don't want to. It would make me very mad to move to the back of the line. But you want me to. All of you who want me to move to the back of the line- congratulations. I guess I will. But know what? When I do, I'll be very mad. And I tend to take my anger out on whoever made me mad. So, even though me standing by this beautiful woman makes me happy, calm, and safe and only makes you wait about thirty-seconds longer than usual, I guess I'll move back because you idiots want me to. Even though that will make me angry, violent, and impatient. You guys might not come home with all your limbs, maybe a bit of mental scarring, and most likely lose this stupid contest anyway, but hey. You got your place in line!" To seal the deal, Bowser flashed a grin, letting his fangs fill in all the threats he forgot.
"Bowser, you're being ridiculous…" Peach muttered. "You really don't need to-"
"I wanna stand by you," he answered honestly. "I would hope you want me to, too. And it'll just make them wait thirty seconds more. Besides…it's not like anyone thinks I'm going to win." Bowser smiled, trying to get a smile out of Peach. Somehow, he managed. He was right- waiting around was getting a little goring.
While the women behind them shuffled from side to side, awkwardly mumbling to themselves and each other, the young goomba came back, huffing and puffing under the weight of the huge pink dress.
"There you are!" Bowser roared. He picked up the dress and looked at it. "You think I can tear this enough to fit? Or," he turned from the goomba to the back of the line. "Should I just not put it on, since I'm not going to be standing this far ahead in line anyway?"
"No, no!" one of the women shrieked, chorused by a few other scared-looking Peaches. "You can stay there. That's okay. We overreacted!"
Pleased with himself, Bowser proceeded to tear the dress enough to appear as more an apron he could wear. Peach's friend tapped her arm, muttering behind the koopa king's spiked shell, "He's really…crazy, isn't he?"
Peach shrugged. "Crazy, ridiculous, overbearing, aggressive, brash, rude…and completely unpredictable. But you know what?" She looked up at Bowser, snarling at the tight fit of the sleeves. Peach helped him rip the seams a bit more and fit it over his shoulder, taking care to hold her hand on his arm the entire time. "I don't think I'd like him to be any other way."
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Madame Clearmont had finally assuaged her customers' fears- for now, at least- and headed back into the room with the heroes. "More Lemonade?"
Meredith smiled at her mother and shook her head. "You just gave us an entire pitcher a few minutes ago, Mom."
"Excuse me for caring," she muttered, rushing over to grab an empty plate of cookies, "but I have a room full of very nervous people and another room full of confused ones. And I need to talk to you all before you go out and get celebrated…it's quite a juggling act."
"Ma'am, do you…do you just want me to…explain?" Daisy asked, her throat croaking a little. Their plan to give Mario an adventure had worked, to an extent. He was certainly in a peppier mood, but the danger had been too real and too close for Daisy's own liking. If anyone had been seriously hurt because of one of her cooky ideas…
"No, no, your highness," Madame answered with a brush of her hands. She opened the door and answered over her shoulder, "Not that kind of explaining. Just be patient."
Luigi and Mario looked at each other suspiciously. Madame had been telling them to 'be patient' since they'd gotten inside from defeating the darkness. "Looks like it's-a time for another card-a game."
After what seemed like hours, and must have been, from the number of rounds of 'Go Cheep-Cheeping' they played, Madame Clearmont came back in to finally explain.
"I'm sure you're wondering," she began, "what exactly was attacking you, why it wanted to take over the dimensions, and why I knew what it was. It's…a long story. But I think you'll appreciate it."
She poured herself a glass of lemonade, poured some for the heroes, and began again. "I must commend you for actually managing to defeat a force of darkness. Darkness is an element, a force of cause-and-effect as inescapable as the laws of physics or the genetic makeup of your own body. But when darkness is artificially created, it becomes something much different than nature ever intended, or would ever cause on its own accord. And what can be created can be destroyed…though usually not so simply."
"Simply?" Daisy interrupted. "Are you kidding? That think almost killed us, and the only thing that actually destroyed it was-"
"If you'd let me explain," Madame sighed, rubbing her wrinkled temples, "perhaps you'd understand why I say your methods were simple. It is not easy to create an element of darkness."
"Sorry," Daisy mumbled, playing with her gloves. "You can continue."
Meredith elbowed Luigi in the side. "You make sure your girlfriend keeps quiet!" she chirped with a bit of a laugh.
Luigi rolled his eyes and nudged Mario. "What-a she said," he muttered, quiet enough that only he could hear.
Mario scowled at Luigi, then promptly turned his attention back to Madame Clearmont.
"A very, very long time ago, before Mer was even born and when I was just a teenager, I had a long-term customer, Vashda Nerada, that will always stand out in my mind. He was a scientist magikoopa…a dangerous combination if I've ever heard of one. He was probably centuries old by this time, and would always come up for the bar at the oddest hours of the night. My father had me working as a waitress, and he liked to tell me of his grandiose plans.
"He was a good man, and was always looking for a way to convenience society, one person at a time. But he was never very successful- he said that his failures were due to his equal balance of good and evil. He was specifically talented in the studies of light and darkness, and often related them to the soul. 'Darkness cannot coexist with light', he would say, 'just as one cannot be evil and good at the same time.' He would tell me that most souls had one prevailing side, whether they were mostly good or mostly evil, but that he was different, and thus was never completely pleased with himself.
"He was also very lonely. When he met someone who was good and wonderful for him, he would leave her because he would decide he was too evil for her. When he met someone who was vile and impossible, he would leave her because he was too good for her. Eventually, he realized he needed someone of his own makeup as a companion, one who was always with him, that he had already grown to love.
"Vashda Nerada had come to love light and darkness from observing shadows, and was particularly taken by his own. Taking from that wonderful story about the boy who never grows old, he thought his ideal companion would be his very own shadow, if he could stimulate it to life.
"He left the inn not long after that, and returned years later. Meredith was just a baby. Vashda Nerada was visibly old…in a way I had never seen before. His shadow was darker than any shadows on any other customers, and often seemed too animated for its own good. But Vashda Nerada never told me upfront that he had succeeded. The closest he ever came was his very last day of life, when he staggered down to the bar for a drink. 'I was a fool, he had said. 'One cannot expect to find both the good and the bad in just one's own darkness. Darkness is the visual representation of evil. And yet, darkness may be weak, but it is greedy, and it is persistent.' He told me he could never be free from his shadow if he remained the same form. And he didn't say anything else.
"That next morning, Vashda Nerada was not in his room, or anywhere. No one had seen him leave, no one had heard him call an incantation, and no one knew where he possibly would have gone. But his room was dark, no matter how many candles we lit."
"Mom!" Meredith interrupted, her eyes alit. "Was his room the haunted one?"
Madame groaned. "Meredith, we do not say 'haunted'. Nor do we interrupt back-stories. It was unsuitable for guests, not 'haunted'. But you're right. We didn't let any guests into his room because when we did, they rarely came out the same. If at all. Besides, nobody wants a room with lights that won't work and windows that won't let in the sun. Eventually, we just knocked the outer wall down, which worked quite well.
"The darkness that had occupied the room was suddenly cast into an area too light for it to fill. It became a figure, just like the one you met. I don't remember exactly what happened, as I believe I…I fainted. But when I came to, my employees told me the darkness had left them, vowing to find a way to bring darkness to the horrible sun-lit world. Of course, I didn't believe them. Not for years.
"Occasionally, things would change. Important people would come to stay at the inn, customers would bring in tempting relics with world-shattering powers, or whatever else happens in this crazy world. And the lights would all go dark, the sun would go black, and the Darkness would return."
"How did you get it away?" Daisy asked, on the edge of her seat.
"We wouldn't," she answered, sighing. "We would just keep the inn as well lit as possible to shut it out, and try and have them believe it was just foul weather. Eventually, he would leave. But that first time…" she took a deep breath, looking away from her eager audience. "My husband gave up his shadow. Permanently. In exchange for him to spare our lives and leave us in peace." She ran her fingers along the tabletop. "I am certain that after centuries of a healthy life, living without a shadow is what killed off Vashda Nerada."
Meredith blinked, leaning over the table to look her mom squarely in the eye. "I thought you said dad died of cancer."
Madame sighed, clearly upset more at her own emotions actually manifesting than she was at the situation itself. "That was…easier. To explain. To both you, and the doctors. They don't have to watch many men deteriorate before their eyes just because they don't have shadows…and luckily, that's not a symptom most hospitals check for."
Mario looked from Meredith, to Madame Clearmont, and back to Meredith again. "So, I guess this-a was-a very important…to you-a both."
Madame smiled, grabbing her lemonade to try and still her shaking hand. "Yes, Mario. You may have not expected to be heroes, you may have not planned to brush this close to death, but you have put my heart at an ease it hasn't felt for years. The inn…my husband's memory…everything feels so much more at peace."
Daisy looked over at Luigi and squeezed his hand. "Wow," she whispered. "Maybe it's not so bad that we opened Pandora's Box."
"Don't-a get any ideas, Daisy," Luigi muttered. "I like-a my rests to be-a relaxing."
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The room for physical examination of Peaches was surprisingly unlike the room Bowser had been in before. Both Peach and Bowser had been let through with their excellent and accurate answers to Peach's personality questions, though the judge seemed more willing to let Bowser through out of sheer amusement than actual admiration.
The physical examination room had each Peach led through a line, judged three at a time. Even the judges seemed to have more propriety, asking each Peach to turn, show them varying angles, and stand up straight. It seemed like they were aware any proper Peach impersonator wouldn't appreciate being poked and prodded as the Bowsers were.
Luckily, judging in this room was much faster a process than the initial judging line was. The group of three in front of them were on, turning around, and off before Bowser could even make fun of their off-color wigs and incorrect heights properly. Bowser, Peach, and her friend climbed up to the podiums on their shared turn, following the directions of the judges with exactness.
They smirked at Bowser, stifling their laughter as he attempted to look as Peach-like as possible, horns poking through the wig and more tears in the apron-like dress than actual fabric. Keeping quiet was even harder when he turned around to expose his completely uncovered spiked shell and tail.
They seemed to look over Peach and her friend with much more respect, muttering among themselves for quite awhile about final decisions. Bowser and Peach glanced at each other with nervous excitement. They didn't really care about advancing, but the excitement of all the participants around them was catching. And while Bowser knew he wasn't going to be with Peach much longer for the competition, he wanted her to do as best as she could. It seemed to make her happy to be, quite literally, her best self.
Finally, the main judge cleared her throat. "Thank you very much, ladies…and…gentleman. You on the far left, Miss 07835, please advance to 'koopa look-a-like'. The remaining two may leave." Wait, what? Bowser and Peach both snapped to look to their right, Peach's friend gaping back at them with surprise. The koopa felt her golden wig and looked down at her synthetic-silk dress, then to Peach's exact "replica" look. She turned to the judges, fiddling with her gloves. "Are you sure? You want me to advance…just me?"
An intricately dressed penguin drummed his wings on the desk. "Quite sure. Please advance ahead now; we don't have time for much chit-chat."
"No!" Bowser roared. "We're not leaving until you tell us why you idiots are judging this thing blind!"
A mouser judge chuckled, rolling her eyes at Bowser. "Sir, you look nothing like Peach. The only advancing you would be doing is if we had a sarcasm bracket. Why don't you try the Bows-"
"Not me, you idiot," Bowser seethed. He tore his wig off and wrung it violently in his hand. "Obviously I shouldn't advance. Peach is way prettier than I am. I'm talking about her!" He thrust his thumb in Peach's direction, a few sparks almost shooting out of his mouth.
"Bowser, I don't mind that much…but I am curious…." Peach honestly added, looking hard at the mouser. "No offense, but I think…I think I am pretty 'close' to accurate. Close enough to advance, at least."
The mouser shook her head, hopping down with her clipboard to approach the three on the stand. "You don't understand our judging methods. While we have many detail sections that you scored quite high in, we have a few crucial pass-fail points that you, unfortunately, failed on."
"Like WHAT?" Bowser roared, drowning out Peach's same question.
"You don't have a tiara," the mouser reminded them, seeming like they should have known that all along. "Blonde hair, pink dress, tiara, and a smile are the four pass-fail sections. I'm afraid your big friend here had more of a chance in advancing than you did, Miss."
"Oh," Peach muttered, feeling her tiara-less hair. "I kind of…forgot." She giggled, a bit of disappointment prevailing in her voice.
"That's STUPID." Bowser roared, his eyes shooting daggers at the mouser. "Peach doesn't need her crown to be who she is. Sure, she's Princess Peach Toadstool, ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom. But she's also witty, brilliant, gorgeous, responsible, talented, kind, benevolent, forgiving, funny, stunning, and the love of my life. And she doesn't need a crown to be any of those things.
"Her royalty might be what idiots like you see above everything else, but without who she is, it doesn't MATTER that she's royalty. I'm none of those things -except the funny, talented, gorgeous part-, and I'm still royal. Does that make us the same? HECK, NO. And for you to sit there on your stupid fat rattail and say that 'royalty' is one of the most important aspects of someone like this beautiful girl next to me? I'm ashamed to even steal all your tax dollars.
"She's gone all week without one of those stupid crowns, and guess what? She's still the woman I love. She's still Peach. And a better Peach than you'll ever find in this crap-house!"
Peach looked at Bowser, and while her face was flushed and her heart was pounding, it was only partially from flattery. "Bowser," she muttered quiet so the judge couldn't hear, "You can't give us away like that!" Her friend just gaped at him, clearly impressed but also in complete shock.
The mouser hurriedly scrawled something on her clipboard, as she had been all during Bowser's rant. She kept looking from Peach to Bowser, her eyes betraying a different kind of inspection than she had before.
Bowser looked at Peach, blinking as he calmed down and processed her words. Suddenly, he realized what he had just done and stared at the mouser, legitimate fear in his eyes.
Peach's eyes followed to the same place, and she leaned on her tiptoes to read what the mouser was scrawling. The judge now had her phone out, and was muttering about press and police. Peach's skills at reading notes from leaders, servants admirers, and kidnapper's guards served her well as she deciphered the upside-down chicken-scratch. "She knows!" She seethed, frantically meeting Bowser's eyes. This was bad. Very, very bad. A million different scenarios flashed through her head, and Peach knew she had to avoid them all. Unsure of how else to do just that, she followed her instincts.
Quickly, Peach snatched the clipboard right out of the mouser's hands, staring at her with wide-eyes in a sort of shock with herself. The mouser, Bowser, the other judges, and Peach's friend gaped at her with the same expression. Fueled with adrenaline and instincts, Peach just did what made sense- she brought down the clipboard hard on the judge's head, knocking her to the ground.
"Let's go!" Bowser roared, catching on quickly with Peach's mental state and grabbed her around the waist. It was just like kidnapping her, but with a lot less kicking. Bowser pushed through the exit door that they were supposed to go through anyway, just barely hearing the mouser get back on her feet and yell for security.
Carrying Peach with the clipboard, they ran until they go to the end of the hallway. "We have to get out of here," Bowser grunted as he let her down.
"I kind of figured that!" Peach replied, gripping Bowser's hand and pulling him to keep running. Feeling a rush of adoration, Bowser ran with the princess again, tearing down the hallways.
The shouts of the guards were getting closer, and Peach skidded to a stop, giving Bowser enough of a jerk to stop himself. "They're coming from the other way, too!" she shrieked, pointing ahead at the approaching shadows.
Bowser looked around, noticing they were at a four-way intersection. "Here," he said, pulling her into the hallway on the right. They waited on the corner for the first guards, panting as quietly as they could manage. Peach braced herself against Bowser's body, trying to compress their shadow to be as inconspicuous as possible.
The first koopatrol security guard, most likely a scout, crept along until he was practically facing the two refugees. He looked up, facing them with a sinister grin, which Bowser's fist promptly shattered. The guard fell flat down, and Bowser grabbed Peach's hand and pulled her across the hall to the other hallway. The other guards started showing up, too occupied with their fallen comrade and peering down the hallway the two had just left.
"Let's go," Bowser grumbled, and he and Peach slowly crept down their hall. They moved stealthily and silently, but as Peach turned her head to check on the preoccupied guards, she kicked an inconveniently located rubber ball, launching it into the stacked pile of empty water containers. The containers avalanche was loud enough to alert the attention of anyone on this side of the hotel, let alone the guards.
Peach couldn't help but laugh, and luckily still had her hand in Bowser's as he tore down the hallway, tugging her along. The security shouted and yelled in their pursuit; far enough away that Bowser found good reason to serpentine through halls. They went through ones leading to kitchens, cleaning closets, and eventually ended up in one lined with giant portraits.
Without warning, Bowser stopped and heaved over, Peach tugging in her effort to continue running. "Bowser?" She asked, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips at the humor of the situation. He still had a torn dress flapping around his front, which didn't exactly make things seem any more serious. Regardless, she forced her lips down and continued, "Why are you stopping?"
"Peach," he heaved, looking up weak at her. "I'm sorry, I had to take a break." He took a deep breath before straightening back up. "I don't run this fast, usually." He turned to the life-size Whomp painting before them and, with a grunt, wrenched it off. "Hold this," he grunted. Without question, she attempted to take the giant painting, even with the clipboard still in her hand. Peach wobbled as she held the ridiculously large painting, unable to see what Bowser was doing. "Get in here!" Bowser roared, his voice echoing oddly.
"That's harder than you think," she laughed, maneuvering backwards towards the sound of Bowser's voice. Finally, she felt his strong claws around her waist, and a thrill in the pit of her stomach. She let him pull her up and into his embrace, the painting sitting itself in place.
"Okay," he murmured, both to keep their location hidden and to match the intimate position they was now sitting in. "We're in a passageway that leads to a room near the main hallway. Keep quiet, and follow me." The cavern lights slowly flickered on, revealing a carpeted and very un-secret-looking passageway. The painting even appeared to have now-broken hinges.
They briskly walked through the passage, keeping quiet as they heard the security on the other side. As they started getting louder, knocking at all the paintings and swinging them open one-by-one, Bowser and Peach progressed faster. Finally, an echoic "After them!" set them in a full on run.
"Stay there for one second!" Bowser roared to Peach, forcefully halting her in place. Dramatically, he leapt and tucked into his shell and spun down the corridor until Peach could hear a crash. Splinters flew so far, she could have sworn one got stuck in her hair.
"Bowser!" she yelled, racing through the passageway and the splinters. Bowser climbed out of his shell at the end of the passageway, having managed to jump back in time to remain safe and not leave Peach alone.
"I'm fine," he grunted, accepting her hug and turning it into a safer way to jump down as one unit. With a crash, they landed almost an entire story down. They ended up in a waiting room, filled with children and government-paid babysitters, making their day a lot harder as over half the children burst into tears. "Sorry about that," Bowser laughed, "but at least we didn't land on anybody."
"Bowser!" Peach scolded, ready to lecture him on respecting children more, but quickly keeping with the tone while changing the subject. "We gotta go! They're coming!"
They grabbed hands and pushed through the door, not waiting to find out how the security gathered at the edge of the passageway made their way down. "In my defense," Bowser started as they ran through yet another maze of hallways, "when I was younger the children's waiting room was two-stories high. It wasn't a jump. Some fatso must have broken the floor or something."
As Bowser and Peach pressed through to their next hallway, they stopped dead in their tracks. Apparently, one of the savvier crews of security guards apparently knew the layout of the hotel better than Bowser's memory, and they were now face-to-face.
Peach's adrenaline kicked in instantaneously, and her head swung to the side. "Hold this," she ordered, slapping the clipboard into Bowser's arms. In its place, she yanked a fire-extinguisher clean off the wall, yielding it over her head like a battle axe.
With a dramatic cry, she ran towards the security guards, bringing the extinguisher down hard on the first one's head, then swinging it with its own momentum to smack the second one in the face. She continued her rampage, kicking those who tried to get around her while attempting to swing the extinguisher.
With a laugh, Bowser commented, "Peach, that has got to be the sexiest thing-"
"Shut up and hit somebody!" Peach shouted back, continuing with as much effort and adrenaline as when she had started.
"My pleasure," Bowser laughed, quickly reverting to his natural tendencies of attack, biting, punching, scratching, and smacking all those who got in his way; he even smacked a few down with the stolen clipboard. As easy as fireballs or a ground-pound would make the situation, he didn't dare hurt Peach. Especially when she was being so awesome.
Soon, the group was disbanded, still in shock from Peach's initial burst of violence and nursing their wounds on the floor. Peach blinked as she looked around, and then tenderly set the extinguisher on the ground, now dented almost out of shape. Like a spring, she bounced back into normal position and grinned at Bowser. "Let's go!"
They took hands again and ran down the hallway, Peach stopping them as they passed a door marked "Coat Check Employee Entrance". "The teddy bears!" Peach gasped, pointing at the door desperately.
Bowser looked down the empty hallways and groaned, worried for their safety. Regardless, he wrenched open the door, tinkling a tiny bell as he exposed the tight hallways of closets and cubbies. "Ladies first."
Peach raced into the room, shouting Bowser commands to look one way while she looked another. The shy-guy clerk turned to face them, trying to look as intimidating as he could muster. "This is a secure location! You can't be in here! We have rules, and you need tickets! If you don't get out, I'm calling the-"
Bowser had reached the clerk and lifted him to eye-level. Stuttering behind his mask, the shy-guy attempted to finish his threat. Still not convinced he had authority, Bowser roared loud and powerfully, spittle and sparks flying onto the clerk's mask. He set him back down and glared, then ran to help Peach look.
"N-N-Never mind," the clerk muttered. "If-If-If-If you need any help, ju-ju-just ask."
"Found them!" Peach chirped, seemingly unaware of Bowser's less-than-verbose threat. She pulled the wagon out from a bottom cubby and, with Bowser's assistance, tumbled the remaining scrawny teddy bears into its bed. When they were all safe, Bowser began to pull her and the toy-filled wagon towards the door. "Wait!" she stopped him, running over to the quivering shy-guy.
Gently, Peach gave him a peck on the head. "Sorry for the scare. I promise these are ours; I might even have the ticket somewhere. But if you don't mind, we're rather in a hurry!" She kindly gave him a rub to the side of his face before taking off to Bowser. "Okay, now we can go," she laughed, grabbing his free hand.
They continued running, the squeaky wagon trailing them as it flailed on a constantly shifting number of wheels. They continued to serpentine down the hallways, Bowser pointing down one on the left with added fervor. "That's a door out, and there's no security cameras!" he roared. Peach still couldn't help but laugh as they ran, getting so close to freedom from…wait, what were they running from?
Bowser spun around as they reached the big, metal door and grinned down at Peach. He was still holding the clipboard for her, and in hushed excitement said, "here we go!"
The energy was contagious, and they couldn't stop from grinning and laughing, Peach practically pacing as Bowser reached for the handle with his free hand. He dramatically turned it and- it didn't budge.
"It's locked," he murmured, saying it as if the concept had never seemed possible. "We can't go out this way!"
"And," a snarky voice added from behind, "you certainly can't go out this way. You're surrounded."
Peach and Bowser turned around, eyes wide and grins gone as they faced the entire security force; several rows of angry-looking koopatrols dressed in a wave of red. Many were sporting bruises and lumps, and they looked most vicious of all.
Peach moved closer to Bowser, grabbing his hand for comfort, her grip tightening on both him and the wagon. Through the mesh of koopatrol, the mouser judge pressed to the front. She had a sneering grin on her face as she boasted, "You've got nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And I expect to hear nothing but the truth from now on."
"Or what?" Bowser roared, hoping he could still use his natural intimidation even when his own royalty didn't do him any favors. In a cold, but direct response, the koopatrol cocked their weapons into place and took aim.
Author's Note: Excited? I hope so! Even if you weren't, that last bit was so much fun to write, it ended up a bit differently than expected but every bit as fun. I like hearing all your expectations for this contest, and I must say you all understand the way I usually write this story. But the contest, as I've been warning you, was kind of boring me. I think chase scenes are much more exciting to read and write than waiting-in-line scenes. So, as much as I'm disappointed I don't get to deal with some of the scenes you have hypothesized, there's plenty of almost equally adorable scenes ahead.
Speaking of scenes ahead...next chapter is kind of a cool-down chapter, but it has some good content. Including Mika's 600th review present (can you really fathom 600 reviews? I know I can't...I'm sort of numb about it still, actually...), which I'm sure I'll elaborate more about next chapter. And it has a character we haven't seen for 32 chapters...even if he only has a few lines. That's always pleasant.
Oh, but before I end another disgustingly long A/N and actually go to SLEEP, I have to warn you- I'm going on vacation for 3 weeks, leaving Thursday. I have one week home which will most likely be spent preparing my summer homework before I leave for a week-long camp. I won't have access to my documents at all, though I will try (try being the operative word) and pop them on Kingsley the USB Drive for random, unexpected extra time. I want to update on time, obviously, but it may be a few days late, and September's almost surely will be. So, so sorry. I had a good on-time run for the majority of summer, eh? ;)
Now that I'm about to fall asleep on my keyboard (as are you, I'm sure, from this novel of an A/N), thanks again for being the most attractive, attentive, and admirable fanfic readers I've ever heard of, freelz. C:
-Razzi