"All right, welcome to the training course. My name's Jeff, I'll be
your trainer."
A day had passed, and Billy and Kid found themselves standing below the hot noon sun, next to a generic kart taller than they. A Lakitu, wearing a backwards-Mushroom Kart cap and a headset, was giving them instructions. Kid stared at the sizzling, black asphalt course they stood on, and was glad that he had shoes to wear.
"Let's begin with the basics," said Jeff. "Which one of you will be driving first?"
Kid and Billy looked at each other. "I guess I will," said Kid. "You've got wings, so it'll be safer for you to hang on to the back."
"Right, but remember that you'll be switching places a lot," said Jeff. "Ok, Kid. Go ahead and get in the driver's seat."
Kid climbed awkwardly aboard. He sat on the seat and grabbed the steering wheel, feeling as if he was riding an elephant.
"Ok, driving a kart is a lot like driving a car," said Jeff. He paused. "You don't know how to drive a car, do you?"
"Well, I once drove a scooter as a delivery boy," said Kid. "That's about it."
Jeff sighed. "Ok, start by turning on the engine," he said.
Kid did so, and the kart came to life. The engine roared frighteningly loud. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears.
"You'll have to get used to it, Kid," said Jeff. "Now, these karts are designed so that they are always in parking, until a switch is thrown by the authorities. This is so that before the race begins, no one is able to creep forward. Today, I'll be in control of that switch."
Jeff pointed at Kid's feet. "That one's the gas," he said. "You want to hold it down as hard as you can, but not before the race starts. If you get the engine revving while in parking, you won't be going anywhere once the switch is thrown. That's the brake, but you won't be using it often. Try going now."
Kid pushed down on the gas pedal, and the kart rolled forward. As it neared a wall, Jeff shouted, "Use the steering wheel!" Kid turned out of the way, and hit a tree. Jeff hurried up to the kart. "You'll have to become more aware of your surroundings," he said. "Why don't you try going around this track once?"
Kid stepped on the gas, and the kart took off. He trembled as if on ice. He checked the rear-view mirror, saw that Jeff and Billy were now far away, and panicked. A turn approached. He didn't realize how quickly it was approaching, and turned too late. The kart skidded, screeching loudly; Kid's nostrils were filled with the smell of burnt rubber. He hit the sloped wall and spent a moment in the air, before coming down and landing on the side. The momentum drove him on, until the kart miraculously landed right side up.
Jeff was in his cloud now, following Kid and shouting for him to slow down. Kid slammed on the brake, and was thrown from the vehicle. He landed on his shell, and lay there, dazed.
Jeff hovered above him. "You have to predict your turns," he said. "Even if you don't crash, turning too late will cost you a few places. Keep going."
Eventually, Kid was able to make a complete lap without crashing. When Kid was finally used to it, Jeff started training Billy. Billy became skilled more quickly than Kid, but he was less of an aggressive driver. His training was briefer, since both brothers agreed that Kid would be the primary driver.
This went on for several days. On week two, Jeff began a different training regimen.
The three of them were once again standing on the track, next to the kart, under the blazing sun. Jeff wore shades and his cap, but Billy and Kid could afford neither of those items.
"Ok, you've both been adequately trained to drive," Jeff said. "Congratulations, you've passed the first phase of training. Today, we begin phase two: Item usage, and cooperative driving."
Jeff pulled out a thin handbook. "Crash course on items: Mushrooms boost your speed. It's a quick and brief acceleration, so brace yourselves whenever you use them. Shells are projectiles that explode on impact, wreaking havoc on your opponents. Red shells seek their targets, but explode when they collide with obstacles. Green shells can't seek targets, but they are so durable that they only explode when they collide with karts, your opponents' or your own. Bananas are dropped on the track for other racers to slip on. Stars make you invincible for a short time..."
Jeff went on, speaking too quickly for comprehension, until he finished the handbook and tossed it to Billy. "Keep it for future reference." He turned away, muttering something into his headset. He looked at them again, and almost immediately, the course was decorated with dozens of item blocks.
The door to the pit stop opened noisily, and two barrel-shaped karts, each marked "MECHANIZED COMPETITION TRAINING VEHICLE M.C.T.V", rolled out onto the track.
"Are you ready to compete?" Jeff said with a grin. "These guys are not nearly as competitive as the real thing. Be sure to use teamwork, and quickly! Every second counts!"
Kid and Billy looked at each other. Both were pale. Billy drew in a deep breath. "All right, let's do this," he said.
Kid climbed into the driver's seat and grasped the wheel, tested the pedals. Billy jumped onto the back and gripped the handle, looking at the ground with fear. Jeff was in his cloud now, holding a stoplight. It beeped, and the top light glowed. With a second beep, the top light faded in favor of the middle, and a final beep signaled the start of the race.
The kart accelerated too late, and the M.C.T.Vs were already well ahead. Eight seconds later the kart was at full speed, speeding down the track at well over sixty miles per hour.
Billy's grip on the bar was steel-like. He leaned over, watching the grainy gray asphalt become smooth with speed with wide eyes. A blur of bright colors streaked past, and instantaneously, a green shell appeared in front of him.
"What's this?" he shouted. "Am I supposed to hold this?!"
"Yes!" Kid shouted back. "Hold it, and when you get a good shot, throw it!"
Billy's grip tightened.
"There's one of 'em! Throw it!"
Billy's right hand slowly let go of the bar, and shakily reached for the shell. With the shell on his palm, Billy leaned to one side; getting a good view of the M.C.T.V. Suddenly the kart hit a bump. The shell went flying, and Billy found himself hanging on to the bumper, his wings flapping in vain and his worn shoes grinding to dust on the asphalt.
"Aah! Help! Kid, stop the kart! Help!"
Jeff flew up to him, speaking through a loudspeaker, "If you stop you'll be disqualified! Don't give up, Billy! Pull yourself up!"
Billy's arms burned with exertion and his wings flapped rapidly, until he pulled himself back onto the platform, and grabbed the bar.
"Are you all right, Billy?" said Kid. "Look, here comes another set of items. Be ready this time!"
Billy leaned to the left, more confidently. The blocks whipped past, and this time, Billy had a banana in his hand.
"Those go to the back, remember?" said Jeff, hovering about the speeding kart. "Turn around and drop it!"
Carefully as if gripping his own life, Billy twisted his arm and turned his body until he was leaning towards the back, facing the road behind them. He waited for the perfect spot, and dropped the banana in a blind spot.
They approached a sharp turn. Jeff shouted, "Lean on this one, Billy!"
Billy crouched and leaned to the left.
"No, no! The other way! Other way!"
Billy did so just as the kart made the turn. The kart skid in a near- perfect u-turn; at the end, the kart bumped into the opposite wall.
"Nice hit!" said Kid, raising a thumbs-up.
"Huh?" said Billy.
Kid beckoned. Billy glanced over Kid's shoulder, and saw on the kart radar that one of the M.C.T.Vs had hit Billy's well-placed banana. The brothers did a high-five, and with a sudden cry of surprise, Kid swerved to avoid another banana.
"They can drop items, too?" he shouted.
"At a certain point, when you begin to get good," said Jeff. "They can only drop green shells and bananas, but be on your guard anyhow." Jeff flew off.
The next item was a Mushroom. Billy informed Kid, and then thrust it into the intake. The exhaust burst into flame, and the kart accelerated with great force, nearing a hundred M.P.H before the effect ended several seconds later. They began to see the first of the M.C.T.Vs, right before crossing the finish line, ending the first lap.
The kart crossed the first set of items. Billy leaned to the right, green shell in hand. He shook his head; with the distance between their kart and the M.C.T.V., it would be impossible to throw it straight at their opponent and make a hit. He decided to go for a bank shot. He hurled the shell, just as the M.C.T.V. entered a turn. The shell bounced off the opposite wall and struck the M.C.T.V., sending it tumbling down the sloped track into the near wall. The kart clumsily started up again, just as Billy and Kid went soaring by.
"Nice!" Kid shouted. "Only one more to go!"
The M.C.T.V. ahead of them could not be seen aside from the radar. The next few sets of items were rather useless because of this. One banana, one green shell, and one set of three green shells. They began to fall from Billy's grip, until he was able to juggle them in his right hand.
"How am I supposed to use these?" he cried.
He was so perplexed by his items that he forgot to lean on a turn, and the kart spun out. Billy lost one of the shells in his surprise, and hugged the other two to his chest, while using his beak to hold on to the bar. Then he got an idea.
When the kart recovered and was on its way, Kid shouted, "That one's gaining on us! Use your items, Billy!"
Billy continued biting the bar, but gave a glance behind. He couldn't see the M.C.T.V. Blindly, he threw the two shells, and then wrapped his hands around the bar, watching. One shell missed completely, but the other collided with the kart's front-right tire. The shell and tire both exploded, leaving the M.C.T.V. to the pit stop's mercy.
Billy jumped for joy. He was getting used to riding shotgun, and was becoming less afraid.
They crossed the finish line. Final Lap. Kid drove through an item block, and they were given a mushroom. The temporary burst of speed they were given was enough to let them see the M.C.T.V. in first place. Kid missed the next set of items. He continued staying on the M.C.T.V's tail, until, after driving through the last item set, Billy was given a red shell. He dropped it like he would any other shell, and watched with fascination as it snaked after the M.C.T.V.
"Hit!" he cried, jumping and flashing a thumb's up.
They sped past the spinning kart and crossed the finish line. Jeff hovered above, waving a checkered flag, shouting, "Good job, you two!"
* * *
Billy, Kid, and Jeff sat in grass on the edge of the course. Jeff had gotten them all hot dogs and sodas, on him.
"Where did you get these?" Kid said, his mouth full.
"Concession stand, during the second lap," Jeff replied. Kid turned pale. Jeff laughed. "You did well without my help. In the real race you'll always have a Lakitu on call, so you've surpassed the standards."
Billy finished his soda and set the can aside. "Hey, Jeff, I've been meaning to ask you something," he said. "Back there, you said that if we stop, we'd be disqualified. Is that true?"
"No," Jeff said indifferently. "You just needed some motivation. If you really care about the race, you wouldn't stop, even if your brother was hanging on by his fingers."
Jeff swallowed the last bit of his hot dog and stood up. "The real tournament begins in a week," he said. "I've done my job training you two. If you feel that you need any more practice, you're always welcome to practice here." He waved and walked away, into the building.
That week, Billy and Kid practiced twice. Sometimes, Jeff would watch, and when they came out in first, he would nod approvingly. The remainder of the days, other contestants were using the course. Once, on the final day before the first race, Billy and Kid watched a practice match. After three laps of aggressive driving, explosions and flying tires, the contestants' kart made it in first, with the four M.C.T.V.s laying haphazardly on the course, spewing sparks and in pieces. Billy and Kid walked away and into the city, saying nothing.
Night fell. The Koopa brothers settled down in a dumpster near the Mushroom Kart headquarters, so they would be awakened when it was time to race.
"Billy," Kid whispered, after lying awake for half an hour. "Are you afraid about tomorrow? I am."
Billy was in thoughtful silence for a moment. Finally he said, "Whatever the outcome, it can't be affected by worrying the night before." The last word was mumbled almost inaudibly, and was lost in steady breathing as Billy fell asleep.
Kid felt around in the trash beneath him and found a newspaper, soaked in coffee water. On the front page was a feature article on the coming Mushroom Kart competition. In a corner of the page was a list of statistics and interesting facts for all the competitors. At the bottom of the list, nearly hidden by smudges of black coffee grounds, were the names "Billee and Kidy Koopa." Their statistics were basic and inaccurate, and there were no interesting facts on them. Kid sighed sorrowfully, tossed the paper away, crawled into his shell, and slept.
A day had passed, and Billy and Kid found themselves standing below the hot noon sun, next to a generic kart taller than they. A Lakitu, wearing a backwards-Mushroom Kart cap and a headset, was giving them instructions. Kid stared at the sizzling, black asphalt course they stood on, and was glad that he had shoes to wear.
"Let's begin with the basics," said Jeff. "Which one of you will be driving first?"
Kid and Billy looked at each other. "I guess I will," said Kid. "You've got wings, so it'll be safer for you to hang on to the back."
"Right, but remember that you'll be switching places a lot," said Jeff. "Ok, Kid. Go ahead and get in the driver's seat."
Kid climbed awkwardly aboard. He sat on the seat and grabbed the steering wheel, feeling as if he was riding an elephant.
"Ok, driving a kart is a lot like driving a car," said Jeff. He paused. "You don't know how to drive a car, do you?"
"Well, I once drove a scooter as a delivery boy," said Kid. "That's about it."
Jeff sighed. "Ok, start by turning on the engine," he said.
Kid did so, and the kart came to life. The engine roared frighteningly loud. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears.
"You'll have to get used to it, Kid," said Jeff. "Now, these karts are designed so that they are always in parking, until a switch is thrown by the authorities. This is so that before the race begins, no one is able to creep forward. Today, I'll be in control of that switch."
Jeff pointed at Kid's feet. "That one's the gas," he said. "You want to hold it down as hard as you can, but not before the race starts. If you get the engine revving while in parking, you won't be going anywhere once the switch is thrown. That's the brake, but you won't be using it often. Try going now."
Kid pushed down on the gas pedal, and the kart rolled forward. As it neared a wall, Jeff shouted, "Use the steering wheel!" Kid turned out of the way, and hit a tree. Jeff hurried up to the kart. "You'll have to become more aware of your surroundings," he said. "Why don't you try going around this track once?"
Kid stepped on the gas, and the kart took off. He trembled as if on ice. He checked the rear-view mirror, saw that Jeff and Billy were now far away, and panicked. A turn approached. He didn't realize how quickly it was approaching, and turned too late. The kart skidded, screeching loudly; Kid's nostrils were filled with the smell of burnt rubber. He hit the sloped wall and spent a moment in the air, before coming down and landing on the side. The momentum drove him on, until the kart miraculously landed right side up.
Jeff was in his cloud now, following Kid and shouting for him to slow down. Kid slammed on the brake, and was thrown from the vehicle. He landed on his shell, and lay there, dazed.
Jeff hovered above him. "You have to predict your turns," he said. "Even if you don't crash, turning too late will cost you a few places. Keep going."
Eventually, Kid was able to make a complete lap without crashing. When Kid was finally used to it, Jeff started training Billy. Billy became skilled more quickly than Kid, but he was less of an aggressive driver. His training was briefer, since both brothers agreed that Kid would be the primary driver.
This went on for several days. On week two, Jeff began a different training regimen.
The three of them were once again standing on the track, next to the kart, under the blazing sun. Jeff wore shades and his cap, but Billy and Kid could afford neither of those items.
"Ok, you've both been adequately trained to drive," Jeff said. "Congratulations, you've passed the first phase of training. Today, we begin phase two: Item usage, and cooperative driving."
Jeff pulled out a thin handbook. "Crash course on items: Mushrooms boost your speed. It's a quick and brief acceleration, so brace yourselves whenever you use them. Shells are projectiles that explode on impact, wreaking havoc on your opponents. Red shells seek their targets, but explode when they collide with obstacles. Green shells can't seek targets, but they are so durable that they only explode when they collide with karts, your opponents' or your own. Bananas are dropped on the track for other racers to slip on. Stars make you invincible for a short time..."
Jeff went on, speaking too quickly for comprehension, until he finished the handbook and tossed it to Billy. "Keep it for future reference." He turned away, muttering something into his headset. He looked at them again, and almost immediately, the course was decorated with dozens of item blocks.
The door to the pit stop opened noisily, and two barrel-shaped karts, each marked "MECHANIZED COMPETITION TRAINING VEHICLE M.C.T.V", rolled out onto the track.
"Are you ready to compete?" Jeff said with a grin. "These guys are not nearly as competitive as the real thing. Be sure to use teamwork, and quickly! Every second counts!"
Kid and Billy looked at each other. Both were pale. Billy drew in a deep breath. "All right, let's do this," he said.
Kid climbed into the driver's seat and grasped the wheel, tested the pedals. Billy jumped onto the back and gripped the handle, looking at the ground with fear. Jeff was in his cloud now, holding a stoplight. It beeped, and the top light glowed. With a second beep, the top light faded in favor of the middle, and a final beep signaled the start of the race.
The kart accelerated too late, and the M.C.T.Vs were already well ahead. Eight seconds later the kart was at full speed, speeding down the track at well over sixty miles per hour.
Billy's grip on the bar was steel-like. He leaned over, watching the grainy gray asphalt become smooth with speed with wide eyes. A blur of bright colors streaked past, and instantaneously, a green shell appeared in front of him.
"What's this?" he shouted. "Am I supposed to hold this?!"
"Yes!" Kid shouted back. "Hold it, and when you get a good shot, throw it!"
Billy's grip tightened.
"There's one of 'em! Throw it!"
Billy's right hand slowly let go of the bar, and shakily reached for the shell. With the shell on his palm, Billy leaned to one side; getting a good view of the M.C.T.V. Suddenly the kart hit a bump. The shell went flying, and Billy found himself hanging on to the bumper, his wings flapping in vain and his worn shoes grinding to dust on the asphalt.
"Aah! Help! Kid, stop the kart! Help!"
Jeff flew up to him, speaking through a loudspeaker, "If you stop you'll be disqualified! Don't give up, Billy! Pull yourself up!"
Billy's arms burned with exertion and his wings flapped rapidly, until he pulled himself back onto the platform, and grabbed the bar.
"Are you all right, Billy?" said Kid. "Look, here comes another set of items. Be ready this time!"
Billy leaned to the left, more confidently. The blocks whipped past, and this time, Billy had a banana in his hand.
"Those go to the back, remember?" said Jeff, hovering about the speeding kart. "Turn around and drop it!"
Carefully as if gripping his own life, Billy twisted his arm and turned his body until he was leaning towards the back, facing the road behind them. He waited for the perfect spot, and dropped the banana in a blind spot.
They approached a sharp turn. Jeff shouted, "Lean on this one, Billy!"
Billy crouched and leaned to the left.
"No, no! The other way! Other way!"
Billy did so just as the kart made the turn. The kart skid in a near- perfect u-turn; at the end, the kart bumped into the opposite wall.
"Nice hit!" said Kid, raising a thumbs-up.
"Huh?" said Billy.
Kid beckoned. Billy glanced over Kid's shoulder, and saw on the kart radar that one of the M.C.T.Vs had hit Billy's well-placed banana. The brothers did a high-five, and with a sudden cry of surprise, Kid swerved to avoid another banana.
"They can drop items, too?" he shouted.
"At a certain point, when you begin to get good," said Jeff. "They can only drop green shells and bananas, but be on your guard anyhow." Jeff flew off.
The next item was a Mushroom. Billy informed Kid, and then thrust it into the intake. The exhaust burst into flame, and the kart accelerated with great force, nearing a hundred M.P.H before the effect ended several seconds later. They began to see the first of the M.C.T.Vs, right before crossing the finish line, ending the first lap.
The kart crossed the first set of items. Billy leaned to the right, green shell in hand. He shook his head; with the distance between their kart and the M.C.T.V., it would be impossible to throw it straight at their opponent and make a hit. He decided to go for a bank shot. He hurled the shell, just as the M.C.T.V. entered a turn. The shell bounced off the opposite wall and struck the M.C.T.V., sending it tumbling down the sloped track into the near wall. The kart clumsily started up again, just as Billy and Kid went soaring by.
"Nice!" Kid shouted. "Only one more to go!"
The M.C.T.V. ahead of them could not be seen aside from the radar. The next few sets of items were rather useless because of this. One banana, one green shell, and one set of three green shells. They began to fall from Billy's grip, until he was able to juggle them in his right hand.
"How am I supposed to use these?" he cried.
He was so perplexed by his items that he forgot to lean on a turn, and the kart spun out. Billy lost one of the shells in his surprise, and hugged the other two to his chest, while using his beak to hold on to the bar. Then he got an idea.
When the kart recovered and was on its way, Kid shouted, "That one's gaining on us! Use your items, Billy!"
Billy continued biting the bar, but gave a glance behind. He couldn't see the M.C.T.V. Blindly, he threw the two shells, and then wrapped his hands around the bar, watching. One shell missed completely, but the other collided with the kart's front-right tire. The shell and tire both exploded, leaving the M.C.T.V. to the pit stop's mercy.
Billy jumped for joy. He was getting used to riding shotgun, and was becoming less afraid.
They crossed the finish line. Final Lap. Kid drove through an item block, and they were given a mushroom. The temporary burst of speed they were given was enough to let them see the M.C.T.V. in first place. Kid missed the next set of items. He continued staying on the M.C.T.V's tail, until, after driving through the last item set, Billy was given a red shell. He dropped it like he would any other shell, and watched with fascination as it snaked after the M.C.T.V.
"Hit!" he cried, jumping and flashing a thumb's up.
They sped past the spinning kart and crossed the finish line. Jeff hovered above, waving a checkered flag, shouting, "Good job, you two!"
* * *
Billy, Kid, and Jeff sat in grass on the edge of the course. Jeff had gotten them all hot dogs and sodas, on him.
"Where did you get these?" Kid said, his mouth full.
"Concession stand, during the second lap," Jeff replied. Kid turned pale. Jeff laughed. "You did well without my help. In the real race you'll always have a Lakitu on call, so you've surpassed the standards."
Billy finished his soda and set the can aside. "Hey, Jeff, I've been meaning to ask you something," he said. "Back there, you said that if we stop, we'd be disqualified. Is that true?"
"No," Jeff said indifferently. "You just needed some motivation. If you really care about the race, you wouldn't stop, even if your brother was hanging on by his fingers."
Jeff swallowed the last bit of his hot dog and stood up. "The real tournament begins in a week," he said. "I've done my job training you two. If you feel that you need any more practice, you're always welcome to practice here." He waved and walked away, into the building.
That week, Billy and Kid practiced twice. Sometimes, Jeff would watch, and when they came out in first, he would nod approvingly. The remainder of the days, other contestants were using the course. Once, on the final day before the first race, Billy and Kid watched a practice match. After three laps of aggressive driving, explosions and flying tires, the contestants' kart made it in first, with the four M.C.T.V.s laying haphazardly on the course, spewing sparks and in pieces. Billy and Kid walked away and into the city, saying nothing.
Night fell. The Koopa brothers settled down in a dumpster near the Mushroom Kart headquarters, so they would be awakened when it was time to race.
"Billy," Kid whispered, after lying awake for half an hour. "Are you afraid about tomorrow? I am."
Billy was in thoughtful silence for a moment. Finally he said, "Whatever the outcome, it can't be affected by worrying the night before." The last word was mumbled almost inaudibly, and was lost in steady breathing as Billy fell asleep.
Kid felt around in the trash beneath him and found a newspaper, soaked in coffee water. On the front page was a feature article on the coming Mushroom Kart competition. In a corner of the page was a list of statistics and interesting facts for all the competitors. At the bottom of the list, nearly hidden by smudges of black coffee grounds, were the names "Billee and Kidy Koopa." Their statistics were basic and inaccurate, and there were no interesting facts on them. Kid sighed sorrowfully, tossed the paper away, crawled into his shell, and slept.