3 January 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Well—as far as Nintendo's concerned, it's still the Year of Me! A few extra months could do me some good. My special year was announced last February, anyway, so it hasn't officially been a year yet.
The fourth Smash tournament is scheduled to begin later this year, as early as September. Mario and I are already at work preparing, packing our stuff and sparring together. BJ had already told us that Koopa and the Koopalings had been invited, and we already knew that Peach and most of the veterans, including Dr. Mario, were returning. I've gotten cards and gift baskets from the majority of the Smashers, wishing me a happy anniversary and a happier Year of Luigi, and they also made sure to call after my exploits in Evershade Valley, telling me that they hoped to see me back on the battlefield. Luckily, there would be no interruptions like in Brawl.
But then, there's still my Final Smash to consider. Now that no more negative feelings are weighing me down, chances are that my Negative Zone won't be of any use. Good thing I have a backup plan—I just need to bring it to Master Hand's attention and make a few adjustments, and it'll be ready to go!
I'll check back later!
Luigi
18 March 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
I didn't get a warning. There was no effort to stop the blow. All I got was a phone call and a blunt announcement: "The Year of Luigi is over."
What can I say? I've had a good run last year. Conquering my phasmophobia once and for all, giving King Boo, Antasma and Koopa a run for their money, growing into a giant to protect Mario, leading a mission to rescue Peach and chaperoning Jasmine at the junior prom. What more could I want now? The only direction available to me is forward, so that's how I'm moving.
Hours after the news dropped, calls from Josh, Grace and their families came pouring in. I get that they're trying to look out for me, but I don't need to be coddled. I'm fine. I'm really fine. My year is over, but the fourth Smash tournament is about to begin—yet another opportunity to show everyone everywhere what this man in green can do.
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.
Luigi
10 April 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Close to two years after they first separated, Grace and Roland have reconciled, and the former has moved back in. She was so happy when she called me with the news. Going into counseling was definitely a wise decision on their part. However, they were taking things slowly. Roland had to work to regain his wife's trust, and Grace had to work to let her hubby back in. By the looks of things, I think they're going to do it.
Despite this, I really hope Grace knows what she's doing. It's not my call, but I still hope she knows.
Luigi
23 April 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Josh called me on the phone today, sounding very solemn, and asked me to meet him at his place. I took a Warp Pipe there, and when I arrived, Joan, Jules, Jackie and Jas were there. The mood was very somber, and my first thought was that something terrible had happened.
"Is everything all right?" I asked.
"I—don't know," said Joan. "Josh…"
Josh took his wife's hands in his. "I'll do it," he said. To me, he began, "L—there's something I have to tell you. My folks know already, but I think they should be here, too."
I sank onto a couch, catching my breath. "What is it, Josh? What happened?"
Josh seemed to steel himself before telling me, "I'm—sick, Luigi. Very sick. A few weeks ago, I went to the doctor because I had some discomfort, and—they gave me the news this morning."
"Dio! You don't mean…" I gasped.
"I'm sorry, L. But the doctor said that I have two to three years at the most," sighed Josh. "However—I'm not gonna worry about the time I have left. Right now—I'm gonna savor each day given to me."
"He needs us," Jules said to me, "more than ever. And we're gonna get him through this, but we need your help. Can we count on you?"
"Yes," I managed to say. "We're gonna make Josh's last years the best years ever."
"Don't worry about whether or not they're my last years," said Josh. "When we die, we die. It's inevitable. But first—we'll live."
I nodded.
"But this isn't a funeral service," said Josh. "I don't want anyone weeping over me when the time comes. Just bury me with my ancestors, and instead of mourning for me, celebrate me. It's the better way to send someone off, don't you agree?"
Silently, we nodded.
"You're right," I said. "We should cherish the days you're given instead of fretting over the days you have left. But if there's anything you need—pick up the d—n phone. Please?"
"Ah, Luigi," said Josh. "A true friend to the end."
I still can't believe it, though. One of my closest friends, a man so spirited and outgoing despite what he'd experienced, is dying. I bore up well until I returned home. And then, I cried.
But like he said—when we die, we die. But first, we'll live.
Luigi
6 May 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Rosalina has joined the Smash roster! And she won't be fighting alone. One of her Lumas will be by her side on the battlefield. She was relatively composed when she phoned us with the news, but the undercurrent of excitement was in her voice. I was so happy that the tournament had more representatives from the Super Mario universe. And even though they were our enemies, I was a little happy that the Koopalings would have the chance to do battle alongside their dad.
A lot of Smash-related news has poured in lately. Pikachu happily told us about the new influx of Pokémon joining the tournament's ranks. Charizard was returning, but as an independent Pokémon, as Red had found success with other Pokémon tournaments. Greninja, the Water-type, was also a newcomer. Again, Mewtwo wouldn't initially be returning, but the door was always open for him. Also, Lucas hadn't been invited back, but thanks to social media, he'd be able to keep in touch with Ness.
From Pit, we learned that the Goddess of Light, Palutena, would join him in this go-round, along with his clone, Dark Pit. Marth informed us that his descendant, Lucina, was the newest Fire Emblem representative, alongside two white-haired mage twins. The brother's name was Reflet, and the sister's name was Robin. Still no word yet on Roy.
"Wow," I told Mario. "MH is inviting some very interesting characters."
He nodded. "He's also hinted that he's inviting more third-party fighters, in addition to Sonic," he said. "Imagine, the mascots of different video-game companies duking it out!"
"Yeah, that would be a sight," I agreed.
I wonder who else will receive Master Hand's invitation…
Luigi
20 May 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Our eighth-ever Mario Kart tournament is just around the corner! I'm gonna spend these next few days fixing up my kart and going on practice runs. Historically, I've given these kart races my all, but this one's gonna be especially different. They think that just because my year is over, they can sweep me back under the rug? Oh, no. These Toads haven't seen anything yet. I'm got going back into the Player Two slot quietly. Nor am I going back into Mario's shadow quietly. I hope my fellow kart racers are ready, because when race day rolls around, I'm gonna show them exactly why I should still be taken as seriously as Mario, Year of Luigi or otherwise.
Luigi
30 May 2014
MK
Dear Diary,
Today's kart race had memorable turnout. In addition to Mario, Peach, Daisy, Yoshi, Toad, Koopa Troopa, Shy Guy, our baby selves, Koopa, DK, Wario, Waluigi and me, there was Rosalina, Metal Mario, Lakitu, Toadette, Rosalina's baby self, Pink Gold Peach, the Koopalings and avatars of real-world players, known as Miis. Jackie, Julian and Jasmine were also racers, along with Jake. But the purpose of this entry isn't to tell you about the turnout. It's to tell you about the race itself.
The format was the same—there were eight cups in all. The first four: Mushroom, Flower, Star and Special, were composed of entirely new racecourses. The last four: Shell, Banana, Leaf and Lightning, consisted of retro courses. We still had the Shells, Mushrooms, Fire Flowers, Stars, Bloopers, Bob-ombs, Bullet Bills and Lightning as power-ups, but this race introduced the Boomerang Flower, the Piranha Plant, the Super Horn and the Crazy Eight, which gave us eight items to use. However, that isn't the focal point of my entry, either.
At 9a.m. sharp, we all lined up for the day's first race, at Mario Kart Stadium. We started our engines and revved them, waiting for the Lakitu's stoplight to turn green. And when it finally did, we slammed the pedal to the metal and zoomed off.
Thus, the fun began.
Shortly after the first hairpin turn, the race became absolute chaos. Red, Green and Blue Shells slammed hard into drivers. There were screams and curses as karts spun out. More unlucky racers slipped and slid on Banana Peels and careened out of control, allowing other racers to overtake them. Piranha Plants snapped viciously at neighboring karts, and Boomerangs flew straight into faces, sending karts flipping all over the track. Lakitus swarmed the track, and the tracks following this one, with fishing rods in hand, rescuing unlucky racers who'd been sent out of bounds. This time around, one racer took no prisoners. And that racer was—me.
I smoothly guided my kart away from the chaos I'd created, chest heaving, sweat rolling down my face, chest and back. One hand gripped the wheel tightly, while my other hand gripped a green shell. My stereo was turned up almost to max volume, "Ridin' Dirty" by Chamillionaire pounding in my ears. And on my face was the most seething and malicious look of bloodlust I've ever sported in my life. Never again would I be the meek, cowardly man in green who took everyone's [bleep] with a smile on my face. On this racing track, I was GOD! I ruled supreme! I would finish first and earn the coveted gold trophy. Once they ate my shells, they'd eat everything they'd said and everything they'd thought about me!
Waluigi, my strongest critic, made the mistake of trying to muscle past me. But I didn't freak out. Methodically, I curled back my arm and let my green shell fly. It hit the rear of Waluigi's kart with a satisfying CRASH, sending one of the banes of my existence flipping into the air with a pitiful "WAA!" I just rode on past him, giving him a cold look of pure venom.
And on the final lap, who should dare to throw a shell in my direction than my fame-hogging brother, Mario? His red shell encountered the side of my face, briefly knocking me off course and allowing him to take the lead, laughing. But I smoothly corrected myself, grabbed a Blue Shell and gained on him. I leaned slightly out of my seat, licked my lips, took deadly aim and hurled the shell like a javelin. Mario swore in Italian as the Blue Shell appeared in front of him, seconds before it smashed directly into his handsome face and made his kart backflip. I drilled a baleful look into him as I drove by.
That was for the Power Tennis tournament, I thought.
Race after race, cup after cup, I gave no quarter. Even heavyweights like Koopa, Wario and DK were no match for my racing and shell-throwing skills. Interspersed with the music on my stereo were the sounds of shell on metal, metal on metal and metal on concrete. The whoosh of sparks igniting spilled gas really made my heart pump. My opponents shrieked, prayed aloud and spat invective at me, but not once did I let up, leaving a nightmarish morass of red-orange and black in my wake. Flames licked greedy tongues along wrecked karts as their drivers bailed out, battered bodies helping each other to relative safety. I made them remember me with a menacing glare slicing deep with hate, continuing to fling shells, Banana Peels, Boomerangs and the like and not giving a flying [bleep] who I hit. Glancing up at the stands, I saw the Butters sitting there. Grace, dressed in a black V-neck shirt and blue jeans, had a look of rapt fascination, as did Gavin, wearing a T-shirt, shorts and a baseball cap. But Roland, clad in a white, button-down shirt and black slacks, was paler than the aforementioned article of clothing. He looked scared to death of me. As far as I was concerned, that was a good thing.
Further down, I saw Josh and Joan, the former making good on his promise not to let a terminal illness keep him from having fun. He grinned like a fool and waved at me, and Joan raised her drink in a toast. My face softened just a little bit—and then hardened again as I turned my gaze back to the course before me. They looked taken by my king-of-the-road mentality. It was as if they were saying, "We understand. Go a little wild. You've earned that right."
So I did.
And after the race, my blood simmered down, and I smiled and apologized to my fellow racers for giving them such a scare out on the track. They were just as gracious as me, knowing all too well the feeling of blood boiling as they sat in that kart, holding the wheel with one hand while holding an item with the other as your music blared. I made especially sure to hug Mario warmly, to assure him that there were no hard feelings between us. After the awards ceremony, we parted ways, and then I went home and took a nice, cool shower.
Yet I made something crystal clear today.
The Year of Luigi was over—but the Era of Luigi had only begun.
Luigi