This took half of forever (a.k.a. close to a month) to start writing. It's almost done though, so I feel happy. It had a good run. Like 2 chapters left after this one. Oh. This is the first chapter to exceed 1,000 words. Have fun.

Marth approached the doctor's office, which was right next to Mario's room. It doubled as a room and as an office, and it really delivered on the latter role. It was big, air-conditioned, just bright enough to be tolerable, had a huge bowl of lollipops on a coffee table surrounded by 3 or 4 cushioned seats, a suspended TV in the left corner (which was turned off), Dr. Mario's large, pine desk (which was neatly decorated), and a king-sized bed in the back. It also had a hot plate and a mini-freezer, like the ones in hotel rooms.

Marth admired it for its neatness, and admired it even more for its occupation. The doctor was in.

"Hello Marth. Are you here for a checkup? Do you have an appointment? Or…" Dr. Mario held a megavitamin. "Do you just want to feel better?"

"As nice as that sounds, I'll pass," Marth said, jacking several of the Doc's lollipops. He walked to the mini-freezer, opened it, and looked back at the Doc, who stared blankly at him. Marth jacked a cola and popped it open.

"So what do you want?" Dr. Mario asked, half-concerned, half-pissed.

"There's a very- hold on." Marth sipped his cola. "There's a very- ooh, gum."

Dr. Mario sighed annoyedly. Marth took 3 of the Doc's 4 remaining sticks of gum off his desk.

"There's a very philosophical question I'm about to ask you."

"Fire away…"

"Who are you?"

"…I still don't know…"

Neither said anything for close to a minute.

"I mean, of course I know that I'm the head physician of the Mansion, and I'm one of Mario's alter egos, but…I don't know what my goal in life is. I don't know what my destiny is. I basically don't know what you've just done: jack."

"Mmm!" Marth almost lost some of his soda. "Clever! Keep going."

"I never really…I just would love to know exactly what the hell I'm doing here besides fighting and healing, if anything. I feel empty, like the inside of Kirby's stomach. Just…I'm sorry, I've- crap, I did it again." Dr. Mario wiped his eyes with his sterile gloves. They were always sterile. Somehow. "I keep boring people with my severe lack of a fate."

"Yeah, you desperately need to kick the habit." Marth was about to sip some more cola, but Dr. Mario started crying fully. This could work…

"Now, now. I don't need to be hearing all that from you. You're probably the most sensible one in the entire mansion."

"What does that mean?" Dr. Mario asked, shortly before he resumed crying. Marth walked over to the Doc and, after he put down some of his jacked stuff, put a hand on his back.

"Pull yourself together, man. Take one of those 'feel-good' pills or something of that nature. You're better than this."

Dr. Mario's crying became more controlled.

"There. Fix yourself in my mirror. You got nothing to worry about…"

Dr. Mario looked at himself in the mirror, and didn't worry about a thing. He also didn't feel a thing either. Eventually, his face met his desk, hard. Marth awaited his opposite to finally be unleashed on an unsuspecting private public. After about a minute, the Doc picked up his head slowly. He had a sticky note attached to his nose, which read "ThAt huRt".

"How'd you-" Marth started.

"How'd I? It's called reality bending, and it's very fun," the Doc said from behind Marth, chewing all 3 of his sticks of gum. Marth was speechless.

"You can't be serious," he said, making sure Dr. Mario stayed in the same spot.

"Sorry, you say something?" Dr. Mario was listening to music on his earphones whilst mopping the ceiling. Marth's jaw went to hell and back.

"It's gonna take me forever to knock this guy out or even get him to look at the mirror again…"

"You mean this mirror?" Dr. Mario was holding the mirror, and still standing on the ceiling.

"Hey! Give that back! If that thing breaks, you'll be in such deep sh-"

Dookie!

"that you probably won't even survi-" Marth noticed what had happened, and dismissed it for the sake of his sanity. "Get down from there!"

"Get down from the floor? You'd need, like, reality-bending powers to do that!" Dr. Mario giggled while Marth sighed. Yeah, he was standing right in front of him. "Speaking of that, what else is there to do in this place?"

"No. Don't you dare torture anyone else in here. Then it's my a-"

Booty!

"on the line."

"Too late." Dr. Mario cocked a slingshot. "I'm going in."

Marth followed him, not knowing whether to be scared out of his mind or excited beyond belief. But he followed him anyway. Dr. Mario walked downstairs, atop the banister, slingshot in hands. Pichu and Pikachu were currently conscious and were watching Birdo on TV. Birdo was the equivalent of Ricki Lake (whom I don't own). Dr. Mario fired a watermelon at Pichu. Pikachu kept watching, but grabbed a little bit of the watermelon.

"Hey, what you guys watching?" Dr. Mario asked, sitting on Pichu.

"Birdo," Pikachu replied. Birdo was talking about Pokemon abuse, and Pikachu, being a Pokemon, was very into it. Apparently, Gary had some…problems back in the day…

Dr. Mario threw a grenade into the television.

"What the hell are you doing?" screamed Pikachu, who was TiVo'ing that (don't own TiVo either, costs too much).

"Hey! What's wrong? Don't like chocolate?"

Marth ducked behind the wonderful, wonderful couch and covered his ears. There was a very squishy explosion. Marth quickly got up from behind there and looked. The TV was gone (no surprise there), and everything in the living room was chocolate-coated. Everything except for Marth.

Dr. Mario licked himself clean. Ew.

"Well, that was enriching. I'm hungry."

"You just…forget it."

Dr. Mario did a Matrix-like backflip all the way to the kitchen. This meant that he was moving pretty slowly. Marth walked to the kitchen and waited for him there. It took him close to 3 minutes, but he made it.

How do I knock this guy out?

"What do you have in the way of fried fruit?" the Doc asked.

"…How…?"

"Oh, it's very simple." Dr. Mario grabbed an orange from Hammerspace (don't own that either). He grabbed a frying pan from the same place. He peeled the orange with his eyelashes and put the fire on. After a few seconds, he placed the orange on the frying pan. It sizzled once and became completely fried in less than a second. Dr. Mario bit into it.

"This is some good chicken."

"Okay, that's enough." Marth grabbed the frying pan and repeatedly, rigorously bashed it against the Doc's skull. He fell to the ground, bleeding slightly.

Then he stood up. And laughed at Marth.

"If you wanted fried fruit that bad…the frying pan has to be on the stove for it to work. Duh."

Marth strained a scream, grabbed Dr. Mario by both arms, and pinned him to the fridge. He then jacked his fried orange/chicken ball and forced the mirror into his face. Dr. Mario fell asleep for 3 seconds, and then abruptly woke up. He looked around, confused.

"You didn't…take advantage of me, did you?"

"Shut up." Marth took the chicken ball and walked away, leaving Dr. Mario in his confusion. For some reason Marth was too angry to care about, the living room was spotless (yet the TV was still in pieces, and Pichu still had watermelon seeds all over him).

Only 2 to go…