Author's Notes:

-So, being a massive fan of baseball and all things Mario, Mario Super Sluggers was a game I loved and played quite a lot throughout my childhood. However, after trying to keep the scorebook for an actual baseball game recently, I realized how much of a pain it must have been to keep one for a game in the Mushroom Kingdom, and thus, a plot bunny was born. This is my attempt to try and realize the full potential of that plot bunny the best I can.

-All information I used in this fic is based off of Mario Super Sluggers. If you think I got something wrong, feel free to tell me, and I'll look into it ASAP.

-I hope you enjoy this insane idea of mine, and thanks for reading!

And I Must Keep Score

Toad had barely gotten through an inning of keeping the scorebook before his hand started to cramp.

Right now, he was in so many different kinds of pain. He was sweating profusely because Bowser had apparently thought putting his stadium inside an active volcano was a good idea. His hands hurt from all the writing he'd had to do, way worse than the minimal paperwork that usually made its way to him back in Peach's castle. And his head pounded from being crammed full of baseball terminology the night before, despite all the effort he'd gone to to make sure he was ready for the job he'd been assigned (and some pain pills, to boot).

One quick, non-baseball-related thought took the time to flash through his head. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

When he'd initially been offered the position, he'd accepted without a second thought, ecstatic at the idea of getting to see Mario and Bowser square off in a game of baseball from closer than just about anyone else. However, Mario had conveniently downplayed the scorekeeper's role when he mentioned the idea to Toad, stating that all he needed to do was make sure the scorebook was in ship-shape to be released to the media after the game was over.

Unfortunately for Toad, there were simply too many scenarios for him to understand them all, even with the cheat cards he'd brought with him loaded with scorekeeping and baseball jargon. There had already been multiple plays Toad had just denoted with question marks for now, although he had written down what had occurred in each one in some attempt to try and have the scorebook completed when the game ended. However, with every batter, that outcome became increasingly unlikely. Between special plays in the field only possible with multiple players, the four different types of errors (Player-Induced for when the players alone were at fault, Item-Induced for when an item a teammate of the batter launched affected the play, Field-Induced for when it was caused by a stadium hazard, and Star-Induced for when it was caused by a player's 'unique ability' either from the batter's box or on the bases), and all the superpowered abilities every player had at their fingertips, the plays were almost always incredibly convoluted and hard to compress into the ways they were supposed to.

Peach stood at the plate now. Mario's team was threatening once again- runners on the corners (Luigi on third, Mario on first), nobody out, and a batter who'd smashed a two-run triple to the fence her first time up. Toad watched the scene unfold with a smoldering intensity- partially because (of course) he was rooting for Mario's team to win, but also because this play was probably going to be a nightmare to mark down.

That accusation came true when Peach crushed the ball for the second time, this time launching it right past the center fielder. Luigi scored, Mario kept running hard. As Toad watched, one of the big Bob-ombs that had started to fly around the outfield once the game had started dropped a small Bob-omb close to the ball as the right and center fielders charged for it, which promptly exploded and knocked them both backward.

Toad shook his head. "And they said baseball wasn't a contact sport…"

Mario and Peach had begun pulling up at third and second base, respectively, but once they saw the disaster in the outfield, both moved to advance a base. However, although Toad's view was somewhat obstructed by the infielders, one of the outfielders appeared to launch the ball toward home plate like it had been shot out of a rocket.

"Buddy move in the outfield," Toad noted.

And that appeared to have been the right move. The throw beat Mario to the plate by over a full second, and not even a hard slide could prevent him from making the first out of the inning. (Peach, however, safely pulled into third base despite a desperate throw from the catcher.)

Toad tried to fit together all the pieces into something that would make sense in the scorebook, baseball jargon swarming through his head as he did. "Okay. That was a double that was turned into a triple by a Field-Induced Error. It caused one run to score and another to be out at home plate due to a buddy move. This one isn't too bad: just have to mark that Luigi scored, make sure to put 'BM' to mark that a buddy move got Mario out before home plate, and for Peach…"

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't able to finish before Daisy, the next batter, stepped up to the plate. Even more unfortunately, she wasted no time in smashing the ball, sending it into the heavens. To Toad, it looked far, but not enough for a home run.

"Well, at least that'll be easy to put down, and then I can get back to this last play," Toad thought.

Perhaps he should have kept that thought to himself, because the instant that thought had run its course, some sort of commotion was going on in center field. Somehow, a patch of ridiculously tall flowers had spontaneously appeared right where the ball was supposed to land, and all the outfielders could do nothing but try and claw through them as the ball landed. Peach streaked home while Daisy made a move for second base, having no problem getting there even with the flowers somehow disappearing (allowing the left fielder to snag the ball) shortly after she rounded first base.

Toad concluded that the flowers likely had something to do with Daisy's unique ability, as he saw no other way they could grow in the barren soil that made up Bowser Stadium.

"Well, that was a Star-Induced Error in center field that drove in a run and allowed Daisy to advance two bases," Toad thought, "but who's it for? Dang it… are Star-Induced Errors even assigned to specific fielders or are they just there? And if they are, do I give it to all the outfielders or just the center fielder because he started the closest?"

But that left him with even less time to figure out the next play, and once again, the batter (a green Noki) managed to make contact on the first pitch, hitting a nice little single to right field that Daisy scored on with a slide, even with the right fielder attempting to throw her out at home plate.

That play was actually an easy one to translate to the scorebook since no items or hazards had been involved, but Toad was already multiple plays behind at this point, so he just wrote it down on a separate sheet in the feeble hope he'd be able to catch up later.

"Dang it," Toad thought. "Why did I sign up for this?"

Bottom of the ninth inning. Bases loaded. Two outs. Tension so thick you'd have to get a saw to cut it because a knife would snap.

The rest of the game up to this point had been no easier for Toad to score. With the batters having so much firepower at their disposal the fielders had no chance of matching, high-scoring games were the natural result. And this one was no exception- currently, the score was 39 to 36, Mario's team leading but Bowser threatening to tie or even win the game right here.

Bowser himself was at the plate, wielding a gigantic spiked bat bigger than anything the others used to hit- even the tree branches the Piantas used were dwarfed by comparison. One of those Piantas, a yellow one, was pitching since just about everyone else had been burned out from the events of the day. He'd been doing okay so far, using his power to blow fastballs past two batters for strikeouts, but when the meat of the order had come up, there wasn't much he could do to counter their attacks.

Toad was at least three innings behind already from all the convoluted nonsense he'd had to try and figure out throughout the game, so he silently hoped the game would end so he had a chance to catch up before Mario asked for the scorebook.

Unfortunately, he didn't get his wish. Bowser's bat suddenly caught fire on his first swing, sending fireballs flying in multiple directions when he hit the ball. One crashed into the Pianta pitcher, another into Luigi in right field, and a third sent Bowser's dugout scrambling. The ball bulleted past Luigi, rolling all the way to the wall as he recovered from the hit and began to chase it down.

Before he got far, though, Bowser Jr., who'd been sitting atop the Item Cannon that substituted for an on-deck circle, launched a shell directly at where the ball lay, causing Luigi to have to dodge before he went to grab it again. As if things couldn't get any worse for him, he got a bomb dropped on him in the literal sense, sending him flying backward.

But by then, Mario had arrived from center field to help, making this seem like a salvageable situation, even though the bases had been cleared, the game tied, and Bowser was rounding third base, ready to score at any second.

Toad had gotten used to buddy moves at this point. Just a few minutes ago, Bowser's left and center fielders had used one to stop Daisy from cracking her second home run of the day. However, he'd never seen one with this much on the line.

And it was perfect.

Bowser's speed (or lack thereof) was his undoing. The ball easily beat him to home plate, and even with his attempt to run over the catcher, he was tagged out for the last out of the inning, leaving the score tied at 39.

"Oh, no," was Toad's only thought. Even if his knowledge about how to score the game was spotty, he knew that baseball games never ended in a tie.

That meant more innings.

And considering that the last play had scored three runs, caused three different types of errors, and involved a buddy move, all that was going to do was put him further behind than he already was.

The game looked like it was almost over now, but it had taken a toll on everyone, Toad included.

There had been so many runs scored that players who'd already pitched had started coming in to have a second stint on the mound. Mario, after having pitched competently enough for three innings, was tasked with the job once more, and he looked exhausted. Fortunately, that sentiment was true for all the hitters as well, for even though Mario's fireball of a fastball had lost quite a bit of its velocity from the first inning, the batters were still struggling to catch up with it.

Now, there were two outs in the bottom of the thirteenth inning, Mario's team leading 51 to 49, a runner on first base, and the weakest hitter on Bowser's team (a Magikoopa with a flowing green robe) at the plate. With the score being that high, even he'd been somewhat useful that game, reaching on an Item-Induced Error in the bottom of the eleventh to keep the game alive. He'd also gotten three hits, including a two-run double in the fifth. However, he'd also struck out three times, grounded out twice, and ended the seventh inning by popping up with the bases loaded.

The plays had gotten simpler as time went on due to fatigue, but Toad was still hopelessly behind, now trying to score that doozy of a play that had ended the ninth inning. Even with the tension in the stadium at its absolute peak, Toad couldn't focus on that, he just needed the scorebook to be done.

Mario threw a fastball right past the Magikoopa for strike one. Then he did it a second time.

The entire stadium held its breath as Mario prepared for his third pitch.

Then, Mario threw a changeup. His first and only changeup of the game. Clearly, he'd meant to catch the Magikoopa off-guard and have him flail and miss at a nonexistent ball.

But the Magikoopa, while not the best hitter, was a lot smarter than Mario had given him credit for. Instead of swinging way too early and embarrassing himself, he waited back on the pitch, then smashed it harder than anything he'd hit all day (and probably ever, for that matter), the ball soaring in a high arc that would definitely be more than enough to get it over the right-field fence.

"Please, no," Toad thought. "I can't have another inning end in a tie… just let this game end..."

As he was watching, he saw the Noki center fielder charge over to the right fielder, a Pianta. As soon as she was within range, the Pianta grabbed the Noki and threw her straight up, even with a shell being launched their way from the Item Cannon, which the Pianta just barely dodged.

Somehow, she managed to snag the ball from that seemingly impossible position, then hold onto it as she hit the ground hard. How her ankles didn't shatter was beyond Toad, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that the game was finally over.

The other teammates swarmed into right field, mobbing the duo who'd made that excellent play at the end, while the Magikoopa just stood halfway between first and second base, staring off into the distance like he couldn't comprehend what just happened. Toad understood perfectly, he would have done the same thing.

However, he couldn't ponder any of that for long, he had to finish by the time all the festivities were done. His first goal was to untangle that Gordian knot that was the last play of the ninth inning. He barely even glanced up as Mario's team named the two outfielders who had made the final play as the team MVPs, whereas Bowser's team quietly named Bowser as their own MVP (for despite his misstep that ended the ninth, he'd still gotten nine hits, including three homers, and driven in a dozen runs in the process). Toad hadn't even solved the last play of the ninth before Mario entered the little booth he'd been working in, clearly fatigued but with a smile on his face.

"So, Toad," Mario said, "how did keeping the scorebook go?"

Sure, it would look bad, but Toad knew better than to outright lie to his idol. "I think you should see for yourself, but I'd say pretty bad."

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Mario said, marching over to where Toad had been working and poring over his work, littered with acronyms and question marks.

A few seconds in, Mario started laughing, and not just a casual laugh, but a deep-set, belly-rumbling noise that seemed to fill the whole space. Toad cringed away at first, noticeably embarrassed. But, when Mario turned back to him, Toad realized he wasn't laughing about the quality of work he'd put on paper.

"Don't put yourself down, Toad," Mario said. "Considering you had zero experience going in, this is pretty outstanding work. And you even went so far as to mark down everything that happened during each play- that'll make touching this thing up much easier."

"Wait," Toad said. "What do you mean by…"

"It's incredibly rare for the scorebook to be 100% complete right when the game finishes, especially when it goes into extra innings," Mario said. "so we have someone else look it over after the game to fill in any blank spots and correct mistakes. You're just here to do the lion's share of the work and make their job easier."

"Oh," Toad said, stress pouring out of him with that one simple noise.

"Sorry about that, I probably should have made that clear when I gave you the job," Mario said, "I just forgot. Sorry for being scatterbrained about that."

"Don't worry," Toad said, knowing better than to mention Mario's entrance when he was nowhere near done had nearly given him a heart attack.

Mario turned to leave, but then whipped back around to face Toad again, clearly having forgotten something else. "Oh! One more thing…"

Toad waited for what that thing was supposed to be, and whether he was ecstatic or incredibly disappointed at the result is your choice to make.

"You want to do this again next week?"