Mario's Epic Quest for Profits
Chapter 3
Wario waddled down the long staircase of the WarioWare building, wheezing and gasping for breath. His doctor said that taking the stairs was a good way to lose weight, and it was also heart-healthy. Of course, that was the same doctor who had told him that eating live sharks would improve his eyesight.
But health was the last thing on Wario's mind. When he had received that fateful phone call from Bowser, he had immediately bolted for the stairs, then remembered to turn off his pay-per-view, um, "program," then bolted for the stairs again.
Nothing excited Wario like a chance to prove he was better than Mario. Well, that, and pay-per-view "programs." The only thing at which Wario had ever beaten Mario was salesmanship. Back in elementary school, Mario and Wario had set up lemonade stands across the street from each other. Wario made twenty dollars that day, while Mario only made five cents. Those five cents were from his parents in order to keep him from getting upset to the point of soiling himself. And Mario and Wario have been rivals ever since.
But on the way there, Wario fell down the stairs and broke an arm, because the author realized that Wario was featured for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
"Unngh…I can't do it…"
"Believe in yourself, stick insect."
"Could you call me a katydid instead? It sounds cooler."
"Shut up. I'll call you whatever insect I want."
"Gaak…okay, done."
"Good."
Mario lay on the sidewalk, writhing and groaning. Over him stood a fat man in a blue parka with a handlebar mustache.
"Very good," said the parka man, who called himself the Sage of Business. "Few have ever passed that test."
"I can see why," said Mario. "What exactly does eating 53 buttered popcorn-flavored jellybeans have to do with entrepreneurship?"
"You will see in good time, locust," replied the Sage.
"Locust? Can't I be something less pestilent?" whined Mario.
"Shut up. So, are you ready to start doing favors?"
"Yep."
"Okay, good. Here comes a potential customer now. Go get 'em, aphid!"
Mario, wondering why the SOB (in more than one way) couldn't call him "grasshopper" like a normal sensei, trotted over to his stand/pile of firewood and smiled at his potential source of income.
"Hello, sir. How may I assist you?" asked the plumber.
"What…me? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I've got a little job for you. You see, I, uh…." The man trailed off.
"Yes?" asked Mario.
"Huh?" the man said dumbly.
"Go on."
"Oh. Yeah. Um…so anyway, have you ever met Hugh Hefner? About yay high, gray hair, owns a house full of nude women…that Hugh Hefner? You met him?" asked the man.
"No…" Mario responded, rather puzzled.
"Yeah, you should. Nice guy. Yeah." The weirdo stood, tapping his foot nonchalantly, while Mario wore an expression that would have weirded out Jack Nicholson.
"And…exactly what does this have to do with me doing you a favor?" asked Mario.
"Huh? I wasn't talking about favors! Gosh! Pay more attention, willya?"
Mario looked about ready to cry.
"No, I've got a favor for you. I seem to have lost my beloved beanie," said the weird man, the likes of whom seemed to be ubiquitous this morning.
"Your beanie? As in hat?" inquired Mario incredulously.
"Yes, as in hat. I left it somewhere, but I just can't remember where."
"Well, that's what I'm here for," said Mario, glad to be having some semblance of a normal conversation now. "When did you lose said goofy hat?"
"Oh, sometime this morning. I remember putting it on when I left my apartment, but when I left the grocery store, it was gone."
"Well, all we have to do is visit all the places you went this morning, and we should find it."
"Goody! Oh, by the way, I like your shirt."
The man, who said his name was Melvin, said that his first stop was the dry cleaner's. The dry cleaner's was on the bottom floor of a dilapidated old building. The sign in front read "B. Scumber's Dry Cleaning. We clean your clothes almost for free because we care about the customer, not because we sell the stuff people leave in their pockets!"
Once inside, Mario nearly toppled over from the smell. The discolored carpet reeked of a combination of cigarette smoke and old trout. The walls smelled like something unmentionable, and looked like it, too. Behind the yellowed counter stood a fat man in an undershirt, scratching himself in odd places. He had a barbecue stain (at least Mario hoped it was) on his shirt, and he smelled as if he hadn't showered in several millennia.
"Um, hi," said Mario nervously to the disgusting man.
The man looked up from scratching himself. "Uh?"
"Yeah, hi. You may not know me, Mr…?"
"Barney," the man said, and promptly belched loudly.
"Yeah, okay," Mario said, fanning the air around him. "You may not know me, but Melvin here says he might have left a beanie here. Would you happen to have seen one?"
"Beanie…" Barney said dumbly. "You mean like a…hat?"
"Yeah, with the propeller," said Mario.
"Well, I dunno. Have I seen a beanie?" asked Barney, attempting to sneakily hold out his hand, but instead fell over.
"Wait…you want me to bribe you? That's ridic…"
Mario broke off when Melvin started weeping. "You don't care about my hat, do you? It could be out there, all alone, in the cold, with nothing to eat but rats, and you're not even willing to pay a cent! You were my hero, Mario, but now…you're…" He broke off, sobbing noisily into a customer's newly cleaned shirt.
Mario, resisting the urge to punch Melvin somewhere inappropriate, said, "Fine. Here's a twenty. Melvin, stop anthropomorphizing your hat."
Melvin looked up, wiped his eyes, and left a rather unpleasant stain on the poor customer's shirt. "I love you, Mario."
"Shut up."
Barney inspected the money carefully, then turned to Mario. "Hmm…I might have seen a beanie…" He again tried to hold out his hand, but instead slipped and hit his head on the cash register.
Melvin turned to Mario with tearful eyes. "Pleeeeeeease?"
The hapless plumber again reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Barney took it, looked it over, then said, "Nope. Haven't seen a hat."
Mario ground another few millimeters off his teeth.
"So, Melvin," said Mario, holding back an outburst of rage which would have been quite inconvenient, "where did you go next?"
"Grocery store," said Melvin.
"Good, we can go there now."
The grocery store was a small place, with lots of foodstuffs crowding the shelves. It was family-owned (by Mr. and Mrs. Mafiaboss) and they regularly had money-saving specials on items such as ketchup, pasta sauce, tomato juice, and red paint.
Once in the store, Mario asked Melvin where he thought his hat could be. He would have answered, except he was too busy being mesmerized by a can of fruit cocktail.
"Melvin…?"
"Shiny…"
"Shut up. Now, look at me. Melvin!"
"Yes," he said, spraying Mario with saliva.
"Where do you think your hat would be?"
"Hmm…I dunno."
"Any idea at all?"
"Nope."
"Not even a little idea?"
"Nope."
"Are you sure?"
"Nope."
Mario would have taken Melvin's head and cracked it rather violently against a shelf had he not spied something.
"Melvin, look! Over there!" shouted Mario.
"Over where?" the idiot asked.
"I think I see your hat over there by the condoms!"
"What?"
"I think I see your hat by the condoms!" Mario yelled louder.
"By the what?"
"CONDOMS!" Mario screamed, red in the face. Everyone in the store turned to look at him.
"Hmm..." Melvin mused. "Nope, that's not it."
"AARRGH!" Mario screamed. "That's it! I've had it up to here with your stupididdly…stupiddi..stupidittiddity…dumbness! I'm leaving, and never doing another favor for you again!"
"Mario, wait!" Melvin yelled after him, a la some cheesy romance movie. "Don't go! I love you! I'm carrying your child!"
But Mario continued to stalk off into the distance.
"Darn, that one always gets them," grumbled Melvin, running after Mario.
When he finally caught up to Mario, the plumber turned around, glaring. "I thought I told you to leave," he said.
"Mario, come on," the pathetic man pleaded. "There's only one more place I went this morning. Please! I'll do anything you want."
"Absolutely not…wait, anything?" Mario asked, a glint forming in his eyes.
"…Yeah…"
"Will you give me ten dollars?" said Mario.
"Alright."
"Okay, we're good then," said Mario. "So, where was your last stop?"
As soon as Melvin said it, Mario regretted taking him back. But Mario had promised to get the job done, and Melvin had given him ten dollars. So, with no shortage of trepidation, Mario slowly walked into the building labeled "Adult Video Store."
The store consisted of a small, dingy room, with several shelves piled high with pornography. A rather bored clerk was taking a nap at the rental counter.
"Alright, let's find your hat and get out of here," said Mario, growing increasingly uncomfortable with his surroundings, even though the only other person in there was either asleep or stupid.
Melvin said, "Don't rush me, this takes time." Mario suspected Melvin just wanted to browse some more. This didn't surprise Mario, as he didn't think Melvin had much of a sex life. The man probably still lived with his mother. However, Mario did wish that Melvin would hurry up, as Mario was becoming increasingly paranoid.
"Are you done yet?" asked Mario quietly. Melvin's lack of response and presence of drool indicated a "no" to Mario. Feeling more awkward by the second, Mario nonchalantly strolled around the aisles, trying not to notice the sometimes disgusting pictures on the front of the videos.
"Hey, Mario?"
After recovering from the initial heart attack, Mario turned around to see Melvin.
"Oh, it's just you," Mario said, sweating profusely. "Found your hat yet?"
"Nope, but I did find these," he said, holding out several revolting videos.
"Great. Look, Melvin, I don't think your hat's here. You must've lost it for good."
"Yeah," said Melvin sadly, "let's leave."
As they walked out of the store and into the street, Melvin noticed that it was colder and windier than when they arrived. "Hey, Mario, mind holding these?" Melvin said, giving Mario the videotapes. "I need to get my hat out of my pocket."
"Oh, sure, no prob…WHAT?" Mario screamed. He looked over to see Melvin putting on a ridiculously-colored beanie. "Is THAT the hat that I spent all morning looking for?"
"What, this? Oh, yeah, I guess it was in my pocket the whole time."
Mario was literally shaking with anger. He couldn't believe he had actually wanted to help this guy.
"Oh, look," said Melvin, "a taxi. Well, I'd better get going."
This was wise of Melvin, as Mario would have likely done something to Melvin that involved breaking bones and/or tearing of flesh had he stayed. So, Mario despondently trudged home, making it rain again.
When he arrived at the mansion, he was greeted by Peach, cheery as usual.
"Hi, Mario! How'd the business go?"
"Feh," Mario grumbled.
"Not too good, huh? Well…what does your shirt say?"
She took a closer look at Mario's t-shirt.
"I cheated on Peach with Zelda? Mario, what's the meaning of this?"
Mario giggled nervously. "I…um…"
"And what's in your pocket? Give it here," she said, taking the videotapes which, unfortunately, Mario had forgotten to give back to Melvin. "…Mario, this is disgusting! Big Fat Mommas 3? Foxy Grandmas? Tubgirl: The Movie?"
"…I can explain! Really!" Mario said desperately.
"I don't want to hear your explanation, you sick bastard!" And Peach stalked out of the room.
Just then, Luigi walked in, holding some sort of jar. "Hey, Mario, what's up? Never mind, check this out!" He held up the jar, which bore the words "Grammar is not your Grandma" in black marker. "I believe you're familiar with the concept of a swear jar, correct? Well, this is kinda like that, except it's a grammar jar."
"A grammar jar?"
"Yeah. Every time someone uses bad grammar, they have to put five bucks in the grammar jar. So, you owe me five dollars for your horrible 'let's just say' error from this morning."
Fuming, Mario reached into his pocket and grabbed the only five dollars he had made.
"I'll take that," said Luigi. "So, how'd the business go?"
"Well, I'm now pessimistic, misanthropic, and disillusioned in general."
"Oh. That sucks."
"But, now that I've experienced business, I never want to try it again."
"You could've sold things besides favors, you know," said Luigi.
"Pfft. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I should've sold something besides favors."
"RRRRGH!"
Well, that's that. Regardless of how bad that story sucked, I would greatly appreciate a review or two. Remember, kiddies, if at first you don't succeed, then don't bother.