Fwee. This chapter is filled with extreme cameraman stupidity, so beware. And what did the fact that 'Know Your Smashers' is three words have to do with anything? I'm pretty sure I know that. Last time I checked I could count, thanks.
Disclaimer: The Smashers aren't mine. I own the cameraman, but not his stupidity. Blame Wal-Mart for that.
Dr. Mario was shopping for a new plunger at some cheap grocery store. He strolled casually down the aisles, keeping his eyes wide open in case he saw the perfect plunger.
A pale lime green beam appeared in front of Dr. Mario. He felt the need to follow the beam, so he took tiny steps behind it. The beam grew larger with each step, until it came to a stop. It vibrated rapidly, causing the people in the grocery store to shriek with fear and dash out as fast as they could. Dr. Mario went back to the aisle with plungers and other bathroom supplies, and became too preoccupied with plungers to even move.
A little overweight boy, who didn't have a clue as to what was going on, was at a gumball machine. He dug around in the pocket of his muddy trousers and pulled out a shiny quarter. He grinned from ear to ear, which made him look somewhat like a hillbilly, and placed the quarter in the slot. The boy used all of his strength and pulled on the lever, grunting with pain and frustration.
"It won't work!" whined the boy, kicking the gumball machine, leaving muddy footprints on the glass. He scowled and finally decided to go ask for help, or in his case, complain to an employee about how messed up the machine was. As he turned around, not even bothering to take out his quarter, he noticed a blinding lime green.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" he bawled with alarm, pulling locks of his scruffy chestnut hair.
The light consumed the boy and Dr. Mario, eventually teleporting them to an unknown place.
"Okay, so it looks like only Dr. Mario and Yoshi remain," commented the announcer.
The cameraman nodded to make it seem like he was paying attention. Just as he began to blow up a long goldenrod balloon, a lime green light appeared. Once it faded, a crying boy and Dr. Mario emerged.
"Ah, Dr. Mario. Welcome, and please, have a seat," the announcer greeted him in a phony voice.
He rubbed his moustache thoughtfully, unsure of what to do.
"Just set your butt in the chair already!" the cameraman demanded the absent-minded doctor bluntly.
The doctor shrugged and hopped into the chair on the stage.
The cameraman's indigo eyes turned to the plump, whiny boy. "As for you, fatso! Go find your mama!"
The little boy cried louder and scurried out of the studio as fast as his stubby legs could take him. Right before he pushed the door opened, he mentioned something about getting five-dozen boxes of Twinkies.
Now that the chubby annoyance was gone, Dr. Mario could be tortured in peace. All the lights in the studio dimmed but one, the one that shined on the chair and Dr. Mario. Shortly after, the illustrious three words are heard.
"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"
Dr. Mario daydreamed about eating soufflé by candlelight with a toilet brush.
"Dr. Mario…he breaks into candy shops at night and takes Butterfingers."
"No I don't!" Dr. Mario insists, right before sneaking a piece of a Butterfinger into his mouth.
"Then what did you just put in your mouth?"
"Nothing! See?" Dr. Mario speedily swallowed it and opened his mouth to show he didn't have anything.
"Yeah, and my cousin was eaten by a snow globe last month."
"Oh dear, how tragic!" commented the cameraman, wiping a microscopic teardrop from the corner of his eye.
The announcer sighed and didn't both explaining the fact he was being sarcastic to the mentally slow male.
"Dr. Mario…his mother is a Norwegian fruitcake," retorted the announcer.
"I don't have any relatives that are fruitcakes."
"Wow, Dr. Mario is from Norwegia?" the cameraman asked excitedly.
"One, no cameraman, probably not. Two, it's Norway, not Norwegia. Norwegian describes something from Norway."
"Oh…that explains the G- I got in geography in middle school."
"Cameraman, G- is not even a grade. What, you were so idiotic, a new grade had to be invented?" the announcer queried, trying not to seem too surprised.
"You better believe it!"
The announcer sighed. "Dr. Mario…his Megavitamins are really women's vitamins."
"How di-I mean, no they aren't!" His face turned slightly red.
"Haha!" the cameraman mocked, pointing at him.
"I knew it, these files never cease to amaze. They're so resourceful…" the announcer cooed in an affectionate voice. More likely than not, the announcer was hugging the files.
Dr Mario fidgeted restlessly around in his chair, as if it was making him itchy.
The cameraman broke the announcer happy moment by yelling, "That's enough for now, don't you think?"
"Sorry. Ahem, Dr. Mario…he flunked medical school."
"No I didn't. I have a degree."
"Oh really? Then where is it?" the announcer questioned.
"Not with me right now."
"Yeah right, you're probably lying."
"It's true! And who would carry around their degree with them anyway?" Dr. Mario wondered as he swung his legs back and forth.
"Not you apparently. Dr. Mario…he got his degree from the Goofy Goober Academy."
"But you said I have no degree!" screamed the frustrated doctor.
"But you said you do," the announcer argued.
"You're hard to keep up with!"
"Thank you. Dr. Mario…he's engaged to a plunger."
"IT'S A PLUNGER!"
"Point being?" the announcer asked brusquely.
"No one would be engaged to a plunger."
"But Nana told us you make out with one," the cameraman pointed out with a mischievous smirk.
Total silence, until crickets begin to chirp in the background.
"She's wrong."
"Suuuuuuuuuuure."
Dr. Mario stared at the ceiling, blushing and whistling.
"Dr. Mario…he's really Hilary Duff."
"GET THE MATCHES!" ordered an unimportant person who came out of nowhere.
"AND THE PITCHFORKS!" suggested another.
"AND THE FRYING PANS!" hollered a third person.
"What do we need frying pans for?" asked the first person.
"To smack him on the head. It makes this cool metally vibrating sound. And to make eggs."
"I see. But metally isn't a word," responded the second.
"Oh well, it sounds interesting."
"Anyone wanna get a burger?" asked the first, breaking up their conversation.
"Sure," the other two answered in unison. They soon disappeared to a fast food place.
"I'm not some girl who can't sing to save her life!" Dr. Mario objected.
"Screwdriver," said the cameraman randomly.
"Whatever cameraman. Dr. Mario…he's cheating on his plunger with the Pillsbury Doughboy."
"I am not dating a plunger! But the Pillsbury Doughboy is kind of cute."
Suddenly, a plunger, which happens to be the three moth old crimson one that Dr. Mario 'isn't dating', sails through the air and whacks Dr. Mario right in the nose.
"Ow…" he moaned as he held his nose and rolled onto the floor. His nose got slightly bloody and eventually he lost consciousness.
"Now you know…Dr. Mario, the son of a Norwegian fruitcake that happens to be Hilary Duff and cheats on plungers," the announcer concluded while the cameraman took off his shoes and hair mousse in them.
Well, they you go, a little Halloween present. I really don't know where the story goes from here, but I do have the ending planned. It may take a while to get the next chapter up, though. Eh. May the kumquat be with you all.