Foreword: Hick, am I ever late! D: So sorry, guys...I didn't finish 21 yet because I was so late. School's been a lot more of a dog than I thought it would be. Grr.
Anyway, I think this chapter's fun. It's pretty light-hearted, and has a certain bounce to it. I like it. :) A good break for me between chapters I don't like...gah like the last two and this new one. Oh, and to be warned- there's French in this chapter. But if you don't know French, please don't bother rushing to babelfish. You don't need to understand...it might even be more fun if you don't. ;)
But anyway! Enjoy reading, and remember I still don't own Mario and crew.
Daisy looked over her linguini at Mario, fiddling with his fork. He was clearly enjoying the pasta- he had that look on his face he got every time he ate it- but there was some luster lacking from his eyes. And between bites, Daisy swore she could hear him sigh with something other than satisfaction.
Daisy stood up, her chair jumping back with a screech. She mumbled "excuse me," almost as if the manners had been beaten into her so hard she didn't even realize she was following them. "Luigi, can you come out to the hallway with me for a bit?" she asked in full voice.
The brothers looked up at her, Luigi nodding before following her out the room. Mario looked from Daisy to his pasta and a smile spread back across his face as he dug back in…yet his gaze was still distant.
"What is it-a?" Luigi asked in a hushed voice as they got to the hallway.
Daisy leaned against the wall and flicked her head towards the closed dining room door. "Mario. What's his deal today?"
"You noticed-a too?" Luigi made an unpleasant face under his mustache. "I-a think he's-a bored."
"Bored?" Daisy looked almost hurt. "But we just finished a 2-hour game of tennis. He creamed us! He should be thrilled right now!"
Luigi shook his head. "Not-a short-time bored-a. Long-a-time. He's-a not had an adventure for-a long-a-time and I-a think, if he's-a still bored when-a we get to-a Grand Canal, he'll-a be miserable for all of us-a."
"But Mario loves Grand Canal! Every time we go he's having more fun than most of us combined! Same with tennis- I haven't seen him so low about it for years."
Luigi shook his head again. "You are not-a understanding, Daisy. Vacation is-a not enough to-a peak Mario's long-a-time boredom."
Daisy rolled her eyes. "What's more long-term than a week-long vacation? I would think it'd cheer anyone up!"
Luigi shook his head. "Mario doesn't-a work like everyone else-a."
"But last time he was in a slump, he and Peach went to Isle Delfino and you told me yourself he was 'all-a better'. Shouldn't this be the same?" Luigi shook his head, but before he could answer, Daisy hissed, "would you stop that?"
Luigi looked a bit flustered. He apologized before continuing. "Think of all-a the times we've-a been to Grand-a Canal. What-a always happens?"
Daisy bit her lip as she thought. "Well, Bowser usually gets involved somehow, ruining it for everyone."
Luigi pursed his lips as if considering a bargain and gave a head nod that seemed a mix of nodding and shaking. "Alright-a, fine. Now, what-a usually happens when-a we play tennis?"
"Uh, there's usually explosions and danger going on everywhere. And lots of time, some stupid villain makes the whole thing horrible."
Luigi gave the same head nod before continuing, "and-a what-a happened at-a Isle Delfino before-a Peach and-a Mario's vacation?"
"Peach got kidnapped by Bowser Junior and Mario had to…" Daisy's face lit up as she finally understood. Not bothering to finish her answer to Luigi's question, she demanded, "so you think that Mario's in a slump because he hasn't adventured lately?"
"Si! The-a last adventure was-a few months ago. He will-a only get-a worse unless something happens."
"So what do you think we should do?" Daisy knew, just as Luigi did, that if Mario was sour during the double-date style vacation they had planned, things would only get colder between the princess and the plumber. Daisy had noticed that as Mario's adventures began to revolve around things other than Peach his interest had begun to wane, but she knew he wasn't so shallow as to like her only as his damsel in distress. Sometimes, when Peach adventured at his side, he seemed to glow for her again.
Regarding Daisy's question thoughtfully, Luigi only shook his head in dismay. "It's-a not like we can-a make an adventure for-a him and-a make him-a risk his-a life for a bogus cause."
Daisy's face lit up and seeing it do so made Luigi's pale. "Luigi, that's a fantastic idea!"
Luigi shook his head violently. He had forgotten that Daisy wouldn't take no for an answer…ever. "I-a didn't say anything, Daisy. Nothing is-a good idea, there is-a no idea…" But Daisy certainly didn't think so. She grabbed Luigi fiercely by the arm and began to drag him down the hall, chattering on about various ideas to help get Mario out of his adventure-needing slump, each more ridiculous and life-threatening than the next. "Daisy," Luigi tried, but the princess wasn't letting any words in edgewise.
He looked back nervously at the dining room door, Mario still alone and eating his linguine behind it. "Daisy, what about-a Mario?"
Daisy turned to look at Luigi as she tried to pull him along. "Well, we're doing this for him, aren't we? He'll be perfectly sa-"
"No, I-a mean right-a now. He's-a still in-a the room!"
Daisy stopped pulling long enough to look back. She sighed once before pulling with even more vigor. "He'll be fine! He'll finish his pasta and when he realizes we're gone, he'll just think we snuck off somewhere to make-out or something."
"I-a really don't-a think he'd-a think that…"
Daisy sounded almost annoyed as she hissed, "Well, it's not like I'm kidnapping you or anything!" But the pain pushing into Luigi's arm as her fingernails dug past her glove and his shirt made him think otherwise. "Mario will be fine. You just don't want to help!"
Luigi groaned, knowing he couldn't fight her now. He let Daisy pull him along, looking back at the closed door and longing for the half-full plate of pasta he had been forced to abandon.
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
Iggy crawled through the dark ventilation system, following Lemmy's tail closely, still unsure of why they had let Lemmy lead in the first place. Just to add to his annoyance, when Lemmy abruptly stopped he felt the extremely uncomfortable pain as Wendy's horns slammed into his backside.
Wendy, who had been staring at the ground as she crawled, had no idea of the hold-up. She, too, got her tail ran into by Larry. Ignoring the pain, she narrowed her eyes at the brothers in front of her. "What's the hold up?"
Nervously, Lemmy mumbled, "It's really dark…"
"You just noticed that?" Iggy asked, his voice dripping with frustration.
"No," Lemmy growled, "it's just…darker up here. I think we're in the wall now."
From a few koopalings back, Lemmy could hear Roy instruct, "use a fiyah! Use a fiya if the dark is that bad, Lemster!" Roy was used to the dark…often his sunglasses were as dark as this tunnel anyway.
"But there isn't any wood!" Lemmy dully complained.
"There isn't any wood?" Wendy hissed. "Are you a koopaling or not? Breathe some fire!"
Uncomforably, Lemmy mumbled an "okay", fully aware that he might not be able to do it right. "Iggy," he whispered, turning his head as much as the small space could allow, "can you help me?"
Iggy narrowed his eyes. "Lemmy, I can hardly move my own claws. Do you really think I could help you? Just try it! Glottell up your throat, raise your soft palate, widen your tounge, take a deep breath, and just focus, okay?"
Lemmy, following the instructions best he could, only managed to hack a rather large loogie. Wendy squealed in disgust at the noise and Morton, as far back as he was in the line, guffawed loudly.
The feeble attempt at fire only upset Iggy more as he considered that they were actually trusting this dolt to lead them to the Great Bowser Day Luncheon…and to get away from the "watchful" eyes of Kammy, currently covered by her eyelids as she slept.
But even when Lemmy was annoying and seemingly helpless, he was still Iggy's brother and often one of his favorites. Iggy shook his head slowly, careful not to ruin his perfect Mohawk. "Lemmy…just…think hard about it. Let your throat heat up and just…think hard."
Lemmy inhaled deeply and focused, focused so hard he felt his entire face heat up in pain. Finally he exhaled, a rather mediocre flame shooting out of his mouth. It followed a thin line of moss along the ground until it hit a solid stone wall, catching on the moss's source and flickering long enough for them to follow.
Lemmy felt about to burst with pride, and Iggy was grinning just behind him. Behind Iggy, however, Wendy was loudly sighing. "Lemmy made fire. Woo hoo. Can we move now?"
In silent response, Lemmy crawled forward, towards the flickering moss at the end of the tunnel and over the dying flames on the floor. When they reached the moss, the tunnel seemed to dead end, but the cool air coming up from under Lemmy's claws told him otherwise. "Guys…there's a vent here, but nothing else."
Iggy peered around his younger brother to see for certain what he was saying. Nodding in agreement, Iggy shouted for them to all back up, his voice echoing around the metal walls of the air conditioning system. He cringed, realizing that shouting right next to what would hopefully take them to the luncheon probably wasn't the best idea.
The train of koopalings attempted to crawl backwards, hissing in pain and complaining as they trampled over each other. Finally Lemmy had his space and pried the vent-catch with his claw, making Iggy cringe again when the vent door creaked open louder than seemed possible, swinging down and squeaking left and right.
"Should I…should I go down?" Lemmy asked nervously. Larry cheered from back behind, "go on, Lemmy, just do it!" Lemmy gulped and tumbled headfirst down…down…and down again until he landed, luckily for him, on a large pile of freshly-baked bread loaves.
Iggy stuck his head through the vent and whispered loudly, "is it safe?" He saw Lemmy nod and so, with just a moment of hesitation, tumbled down the drop to the bread pile. He sat up, readjusting his glasses, and gasped before hunching back down. He looked through his fingers, seeing Lemmy still upright, and pulled him down too.
Lemmy had, unknowingly, led them right to the middle of the outdoor kitchen for the luncheon. Koopas scurried all around them, yelling and shouting directions as they prepared for the lunch. Thankfully, their hectic movements had made Lemmy and Iggy's decent unnoticed, but he couldn't promise that Wendy, Larry, Roy, and Morton would be as lucky…even if Bowser Junior and Ludwig had stayed behind; six koopalings were hard to hide.
He had forgotten that the four above them had no idea about the danger until he felt Wendy crash on top of him. It didn't take her long to realize the trouble they were in and she immediately began smacking her brothers over the head. Wendy turned around, trying to motion for Larry and Morton to stay in the vent system, but the brothers only took her hand signs as a motion to hurry up.
With hushed shouts of dismay, the koopalings all toppled out and on top of each other and onto the bread. Iggy realized quickly that burrowing farther in the now-ruined bread would do them no good, and began to hiss instructions to crawl away from the crime scene as fast as possible.
The koopalings had just barely made it to the kitchen's other wall, masked in shadow, when a koopa chef with a long, curling mustache squealed. "Zut alors!" He screeched, rushing over to the mangled bread and picking them up, sobbing as he shouted, "Le pain est ruiné ! Qui ruinerait soixante pains de pain? Soixante! Les pains! Soixante! Ohh sacré bleu…" He hunched over, sobbing as he felt each loaf.
The koopalings stared wide-eyed as the koopa's face changed from depression to aggression in seconds, the loaf in his hand crumbling as even his mustache seemed to curl in anger. "Je dois trouve qui a fait ceci! Et je les tuers! Tuez-les!"
The other cooks seemed unaware that the bread-chef was making death threats to no one in particular- apparently it was commonplace in the kitchen. None of the koopalings were very affected by the chef's words either, having no clue what he was rambling on about. They did, however, recognize the expression and knew they had to get away from him as soon as possible.
They quickly began crawling towards the carts of food ready to be sent to those at the luncheon, but the furious chef saw them first.
"Voilá les diables! Je vais vous tuer!" His face was twisted in a strange, eccentric and murderous look as he spun towards the cook on his left, chopping celery. "Jacques! Donnez-moi un couteau!" The cook, without even turning around to see the angry French koopa, grabbed a bread knife and handed it over his shoulder. Clearly he understood his words, even if the koopalings didn't.
The koopalings saw the glint of the knife and quickly crawled faster, as fast as they could. They still had no clue what he was saying -he could have been offering them buckets of candy and ice cream- but the knife in his murderous-looking hands was enough to make them run for the hills anyway.
Quickly, the koopalings leapt under the white cloths covering the cart. Morton just barely missed the chef's flying knife, but didn't miss his cutting screams of "Zut, zut et zut!" as the knife hit the grass several feet away instead of Morton.
The chef, unaware which cart each koopaling was under, walked towards them all, saying in a sing-song voice, "Venez ici, mes petits diables! Je n'ai pas des pains pour les sandwiches, et alors je vais employer vous à la place! C'est bon, n'est pas?"
Lemmy was shuddering as he heard, above the clatter of the busy kitchen, the chef approaching his very own cart. He rocked back and forth, clutching his knees as he made a plan in his head. Just…think hard about it. Let your throat heat up and just…think hard…
The chef smirked as he saw the white cloth covering the food cart he was approaching quiver. He gripped his new knife tighter as he stepped closer and closer. Finally, he bent down and lifted up the cloth with one hand, knife held high in his other. "Bonjour!"
Instead of the screams he expected in reply, the chef received a faceful of the biggest fireball he had ever seen, curling and licking all around him. He jumped back in horror, screaming some French curse at the top of his lungs and dancing around, flames covering his entire body. "Je suis flambé! Je suis flambé! Aidez-moi!"
Larry poked his head out of his cart, saw the clearly distracted chef, and leapt out, shouting, "run! Run now!" The koopalings eagerly followed him out of the kitchen and as far as they could. They ran towards the countless rows of chairs and picnic blankets that surrounded a stage, not even caring about stealth anymore.
They ran and ran and ran until they finally crashed next to a small family of shy guys. Morton was flat on his back panting, Larry crashed on his own face, and Iggy was leaning on Lemmy who, like Wendy, was panting doubled over.
The shy guys looked at the koopalings questioningly and almost in fright. Indeed, the baby shy guy began to cry under its mask and the mother picked it up defensively. After he had recovered, Larry walked over to the family, Roy just behind him. The father shy guy looked simply terrified. Although the Darklandians would all recognize the koopalings, seeing them in person was a bit frightening, what with their prankster reputation and all.
Larry looked at them all, their fearful faces hidden by masks, but ignored any teasing he might have usually done to such a frightened family. With every ounce of his voice dripping with exhaustion, he asked, "could you tell us what's happened so far? We missed the first half of the luncheon and-"
"No…no…no speak eenglish…" the father shy guy told them with a heavy accent.
Rolling his eyes under his askew sunglasses, Roy shouted to no one in particular, "Does anyone nowadays? Seriously!"
The koopalings were easily cramped from their crawl through the Volcanopalace ventilation system, their fall onto a pile of bread, their panicked run from a knife-wielding koopa, and their lengthy sprint from the outdoor kitchen to the luncheon. They collapsed as close to the stage as they could get without having to show a paid ticket and strained their eyes and ears.
Although Bowser's birthday luncheon taking place on the stage was broadcast on televisions two stories high and with speakers just as large, the koopalings still could hardly tell the difference between Peach and the pink goomba she was sitting next to, not to mention could hardly make out a single word in the speech being given.
It didn't take long for Roy to understand why a family that didn't speak or understand a lick of English would bother coming…even if you could understand English perfectly, there wasn't much point even trying from their distance.
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
Bowser Junior leaned back in his chair, munching pleasantly on an éclair. A bit of the soft cream inside it dripped onto his bandana hanging around his neck, but he didn't really care. He had been ordered by his older siblings to sit and "watch Kammy" while they escaped to see the luncheon. Although he had at first been more than disgruntled with being left out, as he watched them file back into the room, he wasn't so sorry he missed the adventure.
Each koopaling was now sporting at least one new, fine bruise from attempting to get through the crowd and back into the palace, and many had hefty scrapes on their knees from trying to bypass security and fit all of them through the secret entrances in the palace. Morton's stomach grumbled greedily as he saw Junior's éclair and Roy felt his mouth water slightly. Having no paid tickets, the koopalings completely missed out on the luncheon lunch.
Junior looked them all over, his expression smug. He followed their eyes to the television, now showing a commercial for BreathStink's new onion-flavored mint. He grinned at them, gloating, "so while you guys were gone, I was channel surfing and guess what I found?" Roy's eye was twitching, and the rest of them seemed too beaten to even ask 'what'. Greedy for gloating, Junior continued, "I saw the luncheon! It was on the Bowser Channel. Great, wasn't it?
"My favorite part was probably that excellent speech that one magikoopa gave about Papa. They had a nice close-up of Mama Peach too, she kept looking at Papa. Although I have to say, the little speech Papa gave was pretty cool too. Wish I remembered what he said." Junior grinned at them, Morton's eyes still locked on the éclair. Junior was trying to make it clear that he did remember what his father said but had no intention of telling them…but they seemed distracted by their hunger, so he tried a different approach.
"Good éclairs, aren't they? Rich chocolate…flaky and decedent bread surrounding the perfect medley of sweet and soft cream… I mean, you guys must have got them too. You must know how absolutely amazing they are.
"Since I couldn't go to the luncheon, Cookoopa felt bad and sent up the whole meal. Didn't ask where you guys were; you should have got your meal at the luncheon anyway. The sandwiches were excellent; I heard they ran out of bread so I was lucky to get some.
"I don't usually like salad, but the fruit salad was great, don't you think? Freshest fruit I've had for awhile…sweet and juicy, with a nice snap and yet so supple." His grin spread wider as his siblings looked helplessly at him, Roy's eye still twitching and Lemmy's lazy one locked on the éclair.
Junior smugly continued, "It's a good thing you guys got to see the luncheon. I wouldn't have missed a single word! We'll have loads to use on Mama Peach for the bet now, won't we? She seemed to really enjoy it too. Super fun, best televised event for Papa's Birthday they've had in years.
"The cameraman said he had to use maximum zoom, and he was in one of the most expensive seats! Good thing you guys snuck in…the nosebleed seats looked just horrible." He grinned at them all before jumping off the couch and, licking the éclair's chocolate off his fingers, left the room.
The koopalings eyes all narrowed and, speaking apparently for everyone, Roy mumbled, "whoevah's fricken idea dat was…dey's gonna hear from me." He half walked, half stumbled over to the now vacant couch, ignoring the fact that he had actually come up with over half the plan. "Aftah I wake up."
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
Peach was feeling much better, now that she was full. She smiled at the crowds as the koopacar drove her and Bowser back to the palace. The people all around them were just as thrilled as they could be to see them so close.
The magikoopa assisting them during the luncheon had enchanted the car to repel anxious fans when they got too close, but that didn't stop them from shouting and cheering. She turned to Bowser, also looking out at the crowd. He caught her elated gaze and heard her say, "This is so exciting! Do they do this every time you leave the palace?"
"Sometimes. Bowser Day is the biggest through…I'm always instantly more exciting and fantastic on my birthday, so naturally, everyone wants to get a good look."
"I guess I get more attention than usual on my birthday too, a bit…" Peach agreed. But unlike the Darklandians, the people of the Mushroom Kingdom saw Peach as their sister, their friend, their link to government. That was, of course, the way the Princess had worked for generations- in front of the curtain that all the hard work was being done behind. So she wasn't greeted like a celebrity…that wasn't the way the government wanted her to be seen.
The Darklands worked completely differently. Bowser was supposed to be seen as a celebrity- loved, adored, and idolized. Perhaps that way anything he did harshly would be still seen as wonderful. Perhaps it was just government corruption…but there was something in their cheers of joy that hinted that perhaps Bowser really was this fantastic to them.
"So Peach," Bowser began, grabbing her attention away from the hordes of Darklandians and seas of cameras. "Do you wanna open family presents with us? That's next, I think…after my 'acceptation' of all the gifts I got so far."
Peach's smile opened wide and she nodded. "I'd love that!"
Bowser's heart swelled at her excitement. "Good…good…I'll tell Kammy to bring the koopalings down to the Private Great Hall with their gifts. You can head down there, I guess, while I do the accepting…thing."
He waited for Peach's nod before standing up in the koopacar and addressing the crowd. "Hey, you rotters! How've you liked Bowser Day so far?"
The Darklandians answered in a swelling cheer. Peach laughed to herself as she watched Bowser bask in their adoration, the car still driving them towards the Palace doors.
"Yeah, it has been pretty fantastic, hasn't it? Know why? Because it's my birthday! And my birthday is always fantastic!" More cheers. Bowser's wide grin closed just a bit before he continued, his voice just as enthusiastic but somehow a bit softer. "This year is especially wonderful though, because I get to share it with the tied-for-first most-wonderful person in the world." He looked over at Peach with a smile before continuing. "Can she hear a proper Darklands cheer?"
Sound erupted like Peach couldn't imagine it ever could. Roars, stomps, cheers, applause, shouts, screams, all sorts of noise surrounded them. Her ears vibrated and Peach couldn't even hear her own laughter.
As if spurred by the eruption of noise, the ginormous doors of the Volcanopalace slowly and gracefully swung open, thousands of engraved images seemingly bowing and allowing them passage. Bowser grinned at the continuing noise, his mighty claws on his sides as his chest pumped out. His mane tussled just a bit and Peach noticed how perfectly his bushy eyebrows matched his roguish, bright eyes. His wristbands sparkled as the last bit of sunlight sparkled on them. The light made him look like a picture of majesty, the essence of royalty.
The koopacar was now completely through the huge doors and Peach could see scores of the beefiest baddies gripping huge ropes, slowly giving slack to let the mighty doors close. Bowser turned to the princess and quietly said, "Peach, come here for a sec."
She tentatively stood up. Even in her high-heels, she only came up to about Bowser's neck. He swung a mighty arm around her side, pulling her close, but left her plenty of freedom to move. In fact, Peach felt strangely free but secure in his grip, seeming to fit perfectly. Like the koopa king, she began to wave to the crowd whilst the doors shut.
For one last final show, Bowser held his breath and expelled it in a mighty, magnificent breath of flame. The audience's cheer was roused back to a deafening volume until, with a slam even audible over the Darklandians, the doors shut.
Peach looked up at Bower, still in his protective grip, and smiled wide. "That was really fun!"
He cocked an eyebrow and said, "Yeah?" He smiled and squeezed her lightly. "Thought you'd like it." Although Bowser knew he had to let go if he wanted their day to continue, he really, really didn't want to. Who knew how long it would be until he could stand like this, Peach fitting into his side perfectly, and the both of them happy?
Peach, surprising Bowser immensely, completed his hold by putting her other hand on his chest and pushing into him in some strange sort of half-hug. She inhaled his scent and let him complete his embrace with his other arm and fill his worried mind with pure ecstasy. Whether she had been reading his mind or simply caught up in the moment, it didn't matter. She was in his arms, of her own freewill, and fitting even better than before.
"I love you, ya know." Bowser whispered into her blonde hair.
She smiled against his chest and looked up at his calm expression. "I know." She blinked. "Happy Birthday, Bowser."
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
Bowser had separated to find Kamek for the acception, walking with a noticeable spring in his step, leaving Peach on her own to get to the Private Great Hall. She was walking there when a thought crossed her mind- she still had no gift for Bowser!
Of course he'd brush that off with something like 'you being here is a gift enough', or 'you're coming with me to the Ball, that's all I could ever ask for' or something like that, but…that didn't seem enough. Peach rubbed her necklace as she pondered what she could find within the next few minutes that would actually be worth it.
The only thing she knew Bowser actually needed was probably new sheets. The ones on his bed were horrible! She remembered with a laugh. Then there was his recommendation from earlier…far earlier…but no. Peach couldn't give Bowser that. A…a kiss was far, far too deep for her. She…she…no, she just couldn't. There was nothing, not even a week like she had had so far, that could convince her she could. Peach kissing Bowser was never, ever going to be an option. Especially not for a silly gift!
Peach walked with her hand caressing the necklace as she thought. What would Bowser want? With a smile, Peach considered that even a ball of lint would become Bowser's most prized possession if it had a "from Peach" tag on it. But no…he needed something he was worth. Something only she could give him that he could treasure and she would give; and in doing so, actually be giving him a bit of her. Something he was worth…
Peach took off running towards her room, screaming the directions in her head as to not get lost. True, gift openings wouldn't start until after the public acceptation…thing, but Peach had an assumption that Bowser would do that as fast as he possibly could. There was no time to lose.
Luckily, the bedrooms, including Peach's, were located in the more private part of the Palace, so the Private Great Hall was only a few halls down from her room. If she was lucky, she wouldn't even be late.
Peach got into her room, feet searing hot from the run in high-heels. She looked around the room from her vanity, to her bed, to her still-sealed suitcase, to her wardrobe. Peach smiled, knowing she had finally thought of it. Something Bowser could treasure, that only Peach could give him. Something of worth, but worth even more coming from her.
Ignoring the pleads of pity from her feet, she ran to the vanity. She shuffled through her sewing kit and, with a victorious grin, pulled out a seam-ripper. Peach spun on her heels towards her victim, a hard, blazing look in her eyes. She had found her gift, whether it liked it or not.
Author's Note: Know what's really weird? I'm a little bit excited to end the story so I can start a new one, since I've grown in understanding the characters I'd be able to write them better next time. And I'm too stubborn about keeping characters constant to improve now in this story. XD
Next chapter is fun again. A little tiny bit dragging, but really fun for me. And Peach gets a nice little bit too, which I think you guys will like.
Speaking of you guys, thanks so much for the lovely reviews last chapter! C: That was such a fantastic batch I was just thrilled. Sorry for making you wait so long for this one, and here's to a shorter wait for 21!
-Razzi
