19 March 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
It's with a heavy heart that I write these words—Mario and Pauline broke up today. My bro was so broken when he told me the news, and the first thing I did afterward was fix him a bowl of his favorite pasta. Neither of us know what happened. Maybe it's because he inadvertently got a vengeful ape on her tail. Maybe it's because she's constantly reminded of her ordeal. She'd just decided that the relationship wasn't working anymore. But they'd still be friends. That's one thing he could take away from this.
Right now, I'm giving Mario some space. He'll talk to me when he's ready. But Pauline was his first real love. It's gonna be hard recovering from that.
"Don't you just wish life played out like those fairy tales?" he asked me.
"Yup," I said.
Fairy tales are so clean cut. True love wins the day, and everyone lives happily ever after. But there's no happily ever after in the real world. The spark could burn out, the luster could dull, and the hero and his fair lady could decide that they're better off friends, just like Pauline and Mario. It's sad, but it's a harsh truth. Around me, he puts on a brave face, but I can feel his pain. No doubt, he's probably in his room, wondering where things went wrong.
Life isn't a fairy tale, but it isn't entirely miserable, either. We face down hardship, overcome it, grow strong from it. The real world brought Mario down, but he's not out. He will rise up, heal his heart, and one day—one day—he'll find the princess he's been looking for.
Perhaps a princess will come my way, too.
Luigi
25 March 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
The breakup between my bro and Pauline is official—the latter just finished moving out. I watched from my window as Pauline loaded her things into the moving truck, a dull expression on her face as she worked. I glimpsed Mario standing there, also watching, making no move to stop her, looking resigned. It was like watching a family come apart in real time. Mario, Pauline and I had some fun times together, but I guess all good things must come to an end.
The moving truck was now ready to go. As Pauline headed to her car, she turned and looked at me, a sad smile tweaking her lips. I returned the smile as I waved at her to show there were no hard feelings between us, and she waved back. Then, she drove off as the moving truck followed.
Mario turned on his heel and walked back inside the building, slamming the door behind him. He's remained in his apartment all day, and I'm still giving him space. That's why I haven't told Josh and Joan about the breakup.
Nothing will ever be the same.
Luigi
15 April 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
There's a new movie out today, Flashdance. Boy am I glad I decided to see it. It speaks to people like me. Yes, the music's great, but the story was what really drew me in. To put it simple, a welder wants to dance at a prestigious conservatory, but her anxieties and fear weigh her down until her boss, of all people, convinces her to give it a shot. Just an average girl with a dream to "have it all". Who can't relate to that?
As of today, I finally have a muse, and her name is Alex Owens. We have so much in common. She works at a steel mill in Pittsburgh; I work at a steel works company in Brooklyn. She's bolstered by a former ballet dancer and her boss; I'm bolstered by Mario, Mr. Lanser, Josh, Joan, Jules and my coworkers. We're both interested in dance, but for me, it's simply a hobby and a release. And we're both a little bit nervous of how things will turn out, but we ultimately resolve to take the plunge.
Mario's still recovering from his split from Pauline. He's putting on a happy face, but as his lil' bro, I know better. I feel slight pangs in my heart from time to time—whatever pain he feels affects me, as well. Whenever I'm with him, I try to send him all the love I can. Romantic love can sometimes fizzle, but familial love will never die.
Tonight, before I go to bed, I'll whisper a little prayer for Mario and his bruised heart.
Luigi
19 May 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary.
Julian celebrated his seventh birthday at the skating rink, and his entire first grade class was invited. Joan and Josh must've known something was awry when Pauline didn't come with us, but I still wasn't ready to break the sad news. Neither was Mario. Instead, we focused on chaperoning the kids, helping them fasten their skates and easing their fears when they were on the rink. Mario was really engaged with the party guests, and I knew why—he was trying to distract himself. My bro's overly cheerful demeanor put Jules off a bit—even he sensed something.
"Is he okay?" he asked as we skated around the rink together. "He's not still thinking about that ape, is he?"
"Maybe he is," I told him. "The incident really affected him."
After the customary pizza, followed by cake, ice cream and opening presents, Jules gave Mario a big hug.
"Thanks, Jules," smiled Mario.
"Whenever you're ready to talk to us, we'll be around," said Joan.
"Okeydokey," replied Mario.
After the party ended, Mario and I joined the other adults in cleaning up. Then, Mario went for a walk, and I headed home.
Luigi
11 June 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Have I ever told you about the kid who often comes by Josh's gym? He may be small, but he's got a big heart. Most of the time, he's pounding away at one the heavy canvas punching bags or jumping rope. He always walks in wearing a hooded pink tracksuit and emerges from the locker room wearing a black muscle shirt and green gym shorts. There's always this eagerness in his eyes when he trains, and I always think of the Rocky movies when I see him. His name's Mac, and he's an amateur boxer who wants to go pro for the World Video Boxing Association, or WVBA for short.
We hit it off almost instantly, chatting each other up before and after our workouts. Mac is Italian-American, like me, but he's from the Bronx, while I'm from Brooklyn. I was teased at school for my shy, reserved nature; he was picked on for being a "runt", but he always ignored them. That's why he's taken up boxing—he wants to prove to the world that he's not just "some little man from the Bronx". I did a little boxing myself back in college, but I kept it simple and decided not to go pro. But I've still got the moves, and Mac and I make it a point to spar once a week. Josh always looks worried when we do this.
"Hey," he said to Mac a few days ago, "are you serious about going into the big leagues?"
"Yeah," Mac replied.
"I know just the guy," smiled Josh, fetching a notepad and scribbling down an address. "He used to box for the WVBA, so he knows how everything works. And I must warn you, his training methods are a bit—unorthodox—but they work. Stick with this guy, and I know you'll make it."
Mac took the paper gratefully. "Thanks, man," he said.
"Tell him Josh sent you."
"Will do."
This afternoon, Mac told me all about his new trainer. He'd taken a shine to him even before he'd mentioned Josh. And he'd let him see all of the trophies he'd won throughout his career and told him that if he worked hard and trained hard, then trophies would start piling in his room, too. Plus, he loved chocolate, and was almost always seen noshing on a chocolate bar. The guy had agreed to take him on, and training would start next week. This trainer's name was Doc Louis.
Mac and I hugged it out good and long, and I wished him the best of luck. He assured me that I'd still see him around the gym, just less frequently.
"What do you hope to do with your life later on?" Mac asked me.
"You know what?" I replied. "I'm really not sure. Maybe I have this wonderful adventure on the horizon—a chance to be someone's hero—and I just don't know it yet."
"You're my hero, you know," Mac said softly. "I don't think I would've found the courage to talk to Doc if it weren't for you."
I stood there, gob smacked, as Mac patted me on the shoulder.
"See ya round," he said.
"Yeah." I found my voice as Mac left the gym. "See ya."
Isn't this wonderful? I'm actually someone's hero! I guess being a hero isn't all about scaling scaffolds to save your girl—it's the smaller things, the way you touch the people you encounter, the way you shoulder your burden and journey on. I've always considered Mario my hero well before the DK business happened. And let's not forget the heroes on the silver screen, the heroes who don't need tight costumes or special powers. Heroes like Alex Owens, the little welder that could, and Rocky, the guy from Philadelphia who went the distance. Those movies are appealing because they have realistic heroes that speak to us, reminding us never to give up—or give in.
Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.
Luigi
14 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
DK's transfer paperwork has finally been processed, and he began his journey home today. A private ship was chartered just for him, built to accommodate his bulk. Mario and I went to the harbor to see him off, and Pauline went with us, too. DK was grinning like a fool as he boarded the ship, suitcases in hand. He shook hands with Mario and gave me a hug, again apologizing for the hurt and trauma he'd caused. Finally, he gave Pauline a bouquet of flowers and a kiss on the cheek, wishing her the best. We all waved as the ship sounded her horn and headed for the open sea, en route to DK Isle.
Once the ship disappeared from sight, we had lunch at a nearby seafood restaurant. I remained silent, allowing my bro to talk things out with Pauline, the two of them saying what needed to be said and attaining closure over the end of their relationship. They promised to remain close friends and keep in touch, and Pauline told him that she'd never forget his act of bravery that day. I smiled to myself. My big bro was beginning to move on.
Before we went home, Mario gave Pauline one final kiss. I watched them, sensing the passion and longing in that kiss. Mario held back the tears until Pauline had hopped into her car and drove away. Then, for the first time, he broke down. He fell to his knees and wept like a child. I knelt beside him and took him in my arms and let him sob, glaring at anyone who dared give him the judgmental look. I held him, not saying anything, and he held me tight, his body shaking and heaving as he released what he'd no doubt held inside for months.
Heroes are human, too, you know.
Luigi
15 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Today, Mario quit his construction job. Too many memories, I guess. But yesterday's cry did him a lot of good. He came clean to the Merricks about his split from Pauline and assured them that it was amicable. He was ready to get back out there and show the world what Mario "Jumpman" Mario could do. Oh, I forgot to tell you, "Jumpman" is Mario's nickname, because he tended to jump around a lot. When it came to sports, he had a strong jump. However, I could jump even higher and farther. But we'll get to that later.
"I need to take a break," he told me. "Pull myself together. And who knows? Maybe something in the want ads will catch my eye."
"Maybe you can go back to school and become a microbiologist," I offered.
"From a carpenter to a microbiologist," he mused. "You know, that's a thought."
That lasted until I watched the news earlier this evening. Apparently, there's a mysterious—disturbance—in the sewage line. The workers discovered all sorts of creatures making themselves at home. As a result, a demand for plumbers has increased.
Well, I've always wanted to get dirty.
I called up Mario and asked, "Did you see that news story?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Bro—how would you like to go into business with me?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"I think we should roll up our sleeves and tackle that job! How about we become plumbers together?"
"Plumbers…" Mario seemed to consider this. "Why not? There's no risk of falling to my death."
"Okeydokey!" I was so excited! My bro and I would make a great plumbing team!
We made plans to stop by the site and inquire about any openings. As for me, I decided to stay on as a mechanic in case things didn't work out. But I had a feeling that they would.
I should go to bed early tonight. I've got a big day ahead of me.
Luigi
16 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
We weren't the only ones watching the news yesterday. Even though we made it a point to show up early, the place was already crowded with prospective employees. Men in suits and vests gave out applications to fill out and told us to simply mail it to the listed address. I had to head over to work, so I resolved to start on the application during my break.
Mr. Lanser was pretty antsy when he spied me working on my application. I told him that working here was fun, but the time had come for me to try something new. You'll never know what you might find in the sewers, after all. Plus, for the first time, I'd be working alongside my bro! Who wouldn't want that? Thanks to my way with words, I was able to calm and comfort my boss and several eavesdropping employees.
"Don't forget us, understand?" Mr. Lanser got a little choked up. I hugged him and promised never to forget my time here.
A little bit of news on the Mac front: He's almost a month into his training with Doc. The fellow has Mac running after him as he pedals down the street on his bicycle, making passersby think that—well—he's some kind of bicycle thief. He's also doing aerobics and calisthenics, weight training and sparring. But Doc isn't all that bad. He rewards good work with a chocolate bar and doles out advice. He may not be WVBA material yet, but he's getting close.
I just finished my application an hour ago, and I'll mail it in tomorrow. Mario finished his earlier; we agreed to mail both our applications at the same time.
Time to get some sleep!
Luigi
17 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Well, we did it. The machine has been set into motion. Mario and I mailed our applications, handing them to the post office worker at the exact same time. We should hear back from them in about two days. Two days of suspense. What fun.
Luckily, my job distracts me from the suspense. And after I get off from work, I go to the theater and watch Flashdance for the umpteenth time. Forgive me, but I just can't get enough of that movie. It always cheers me up to watch the heroine rise from her humdrum existence and carve out a life for herself. And I can't resist swaying in my seat and tapping my foot during the climactic dance audition. Not just because of the funky beat, it's because my muse has finally overcome her fear of failure and taken a leap of faith. What a feeling, indeed.
But on the other hand, it's only a movie, and watching someone take a leap of faith is different from doing it yourself. Alex, you were my first muse, and watching your story gave me a reason to wake up each morning. But now it's time to face facts. I won't be the man I want to be by just sitting around in a theater and watching you overcome your obstacles. It's time for me to get up and try to make my own way—without you. Because you won't be around to help me forever.
Thank you, Alexandra Owens. For everything.
I head home with the peculiar feeling that soon, I'll get the chance to "have it all".
Luigi
19 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
I haven't opened the envelope all day. I've just kept it in my pocket during my shift and in the locker room at the gym. Mario told me he hasn't yet opened his, either. Before I left the gym, Josh told me that something like this is time-sensitive, and they'll probably give the job away to someone else if I don't respond soon. I guess he's right. There's really nothing to be scared of. What really matters is that I'd mustered the courage to try.
I just gave Mario a buzz. We're gonna open these envelopes together, and whatever happens, happens. As a matter of fact, here he comes now.
Okeydokey. I'll let him in, and on the count of three, we'll open our envelopes and see if we got the job.
Here I go!
Luigi
20 July 1983
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
I still can't believe Mario and I got the job. Not only that, but we also figured out a way to deal with those creepy-crawlies blocking the pipes! Let me tell you about it as best I can…
When we arrived, the other applicants had no idea how to deal with the problem, and the supervisors were getting desperate. Mario and I were introduced to our boss, Salvatore, or Sal for short. Before we headed down into the sewers, Sal quickly explained what was waiting for us below, and that we might want to hold our noses. Well, duh—it's a sewer. It's not like it's gonna smell of roses.
So, down we went into the bowels of the Big Apple, and what we saw down there hardly looked like a sewer. The place was crawling with "visitors"! Turtles, crabs, and even flies! Mario and I had no idea where these creatures came from. But we had some idea on how to get rid of them.
Together, we gave the platform above us a swift punch, stunning the turtles standing on it. It was just enough time for us to kick them away. For the crabs, we had to punch the platforms twice to stun them, and for the flies, we had to trick them into alighting on a platform. Mario and I worked swiftly and efficiently, clearing out the pests as quickly as they showed up. When we were hoisted back up, Sal just stood there, slack-jawed.
"Who are you guys?" he asked after a while.
Mario and I slung our arms around each other, covered in gunk but not caring. We answered Sal's question at the same time.
"We're the Mario Bros!"
"Well, uh, Mario Bros…" said Sal. Then, his face split in a [bleep]-eating grin. "You're hired!"
Oh, yeah!
Later that day, I gently broke the news to Mr. Lanser. He was teary-eyed, but understanding. Then, I shook hands with the other mechanics, and they warned me to be careful—not everyone would be as nice to me as them.
"Don't forget me," I said to them before taking my leave.
Who would've thought that a regular Giuseppe like me would eventually battle creepy-crawlies in the sewers alongside my scaffolding-scaling, ape-fighting brother?
Luigi
21 March 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
It's been a little over year since Mario and Pauline's split and eight months since Sal hired us. And let me tell you, we've gotten better and better at this job. The smell doesn't really bother us anymore; our noses adjusted after only a few weeks. From 9 to 5, Monday to Friday, my big bro and I are at war against the turtles, crabs and flies continuing to infest the sewers. The job nets better pay than when I was with Mr. Lanser—maybe because of these creepy-crawlies. But we also learned how to make the right friends—we buddied up with both the plumbers' and sewage workers' unions, unions which regularly breathed down Sal's neck. So, he made pretty d—n sure we were paid well.
In these eight months, Mario and I have thought up of various ways to spice up the job. We started holding mini-competitions to see who could clear out the most pests. We came up with nicknames for said pests, as well. The turtles became Shellcreepers, the crabs became Sidesteppers, and the flies became Fighterflies. Sal and the other supervisors rolled their eyes, but they let us do. During the winter months, we had to deal with slippery ice and dangling icicles, but Mario and I were a team, and we conjured up a plethora of strategies to handle them. Sometimes, Sal would bring a radio, and we'd listen to our favorite pop songs and discover new favorite artists, like Modern Talking and The Cars. Other times, we'd tell each other dirty jokes. And Sal would venture down himself to check up on us. Wow, he really cares about his employees!
And word has spread quickly about us, spending our weekdays dealing with this strange infestation. We were interviewed by several reporters while on the job. There was even an arcade game based on our exploits, simply titled "Mario Bros". Two years after the showdown between Mario and DK, I was finally sharing the spotlight with my bro. Of course, the dirty jokes and the catchy pop songs were edited out of the arcade game.
Soon, the uproar dies down a little, but we're not always the only ones down in the sewers, aside from the supervisors. Other sewage workers swing by to help us. After we clean ourselves up, we go out to dinner and then blow off some steam at the arcade, where we play the Mario Bros game. Kids and teens recognize the game's two namesakes, but they mainly keep to themselves. And of course, we still play Pac-Man, along with the sequel, Ms. Pac-Man. I had no idea that the yellow ghost-guzzler was married.
My improved salary is enough to start fixing up my apartment a little bit. It's enough for me to upgrade my membership at Josh's gym. And it's enough for me to buy a NES gaming system. My first NES game is called Duck Hunt, and it's about, you guessed it, trying to shoot ducks while your loyal hunting dog laughs when you miss. I really don't like killing animals, but there's no blood in the game, and the ducks are just pixels, so I guess I can make an exception. And then, Mario Bros is ported to the NES, but the setback is that you can only play as Mario in single player mode. But I simply invite Mario over to play, and that way, I can play as myself. We have so much fun, trying to outdo and one-up each other on that game.
In other news, Mac told me that's he's finally gotten his shot to join the WVBA once and for all. The qualifying match will be next month, and he's invited me and the Merricks to attend to cheer him on. You can bet I'll be there, but Josh isn't so sure. He has a second-grader to take care of, and if the night of the match is a school night…
"I think it's on a Friday," said Mac.
"I'll see what I can do," said Josh. "Okay?"
"Kay," said Mac.
I can't help but notice how he's changed, inside and out. He's noticeably slimmer and more buff. But he's also more confident and in charge of his own life. Being called a "runt" doesn't bother him like it used to. Training with Doc has really turned him into a mature young man.
Wow, it looks like almost everyone I know is taking the plunge this year!
Luigi
18 April 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Mac showed up in top form for the qualifying bouts earlier tonight! I managed to snag myself a seat in the front row. And Josh, Joan and Jules managed to show up, as well, all three of them dressed to the nines. On the other side of the ring, I glimpsed a group of people with Mac's dark hair sitting around and chatting among themselves. That must be his family.
The ring announcer introduced Mac first. Josh, Joan, Jules and I stood up and cheered as the young boxer emerged, wearing his usual pink hoodie. It was then that I got my first look at Doc Louis, an African-American man in a red tracksuit. Once Mac stepped into the ring, he shrugged off his hoodie to reveal a gold tank top and red shorts, with gold boxing gloves to match. Doc rubbed his shoulders and whispered something into his ear, and he nodded, his face setting into granite firmness.
His first opponent was Glass Joe, who hailed from France. Glass Joe was a bit on the lean side and kind of nitpicky—he didn't want Mac to hit him in the face. I didn't know if it was merely part of his persona, but at least he gave Mac an okay fight. Mac beat the guy in two rounds, barely receiving a scratch.
Piston Hurricane, a native of Havana, Cuba, was the second opponent, and he put up a much better fight. Mac was knocked down once, but he got up after three seconds and gave as good as he got. His flurry of high-low punches had my heart skipping a beat, but Doc's tutelage helped Mac take punches from the best of them. Eventually, Mac overcame this Hurricane with a mighty uppercut, earning a standing ovation.
Up next was the Brooklyn native Kid Quick, named for his enviable speed. Initially, Mac found it hard to keep up with him and took a few good ones to the face. But then, he started to play defensively, gradually wearing Kid Quick down, until he was able to finish him with several body blows and a one-two punch. Afterward, Kid Quick nodded to Mac in respect, and they shared an embrace before parting ways. Aww.
After Kid Quick was the Philadelphia-born Mr. Sandman. Mac took a beating from that guy before he finally figured out how to anticipate and dodge those three quick uppercuts he liked to perform. Before the fight, Mr. Sandman boasted that he was gonna put Mac to sleep, and he came very close to keeping that promise! Ultimately, Mac bested Mr. Sandman with a rapid flurry of punches, knocking him to the canvas as the Merricks and I jumped to our feet and hollered.
The final and most difficult opponent was Bald Bull, hailing from Istanbul, Turkey. He appeared more muscle than man! Mac looked nervous, so I shouted to him, "You got this, Mac!", causing him to perk up and flash me a small smile. He used body blows to chip away at his hunky, hulking opponent, Josh, Joan, Jules and I hardly daring to breathe as Bald Bull gave Mac an intimidating glare and aimed hammy fists at him. Mac was knocked down twice by Bald Bull's nasty uppercut, but the uppercut was preceded by three hops toward him. Timing things correctly, Mac could knock down his behemoth foe on the third hop, simply by landing a straight punch or a hook to the body. At the climax of the fight, Mac was exhausted, covered in bruises and sported a cut over his left eyebrow, but he'd sneak quick looks over at me and the Merricks, and he'd seem to realize that he had to keep on going. His prize was just ahead, and he was going to win it!
And win it he did, by way of a TKO. As the referee raised Mac's arm in victory, everyone in the arena was on their feet, cheering and tossing him flowers. Mac was blushing and visibly holding back tears. He started off this bout as a nobody, but as he beat these seasoned fighters, he started grabbing everyone's attention. And after taking so many punches, he'd finally done it—the "runt" from the Bronx finally qualified for the WVBA.
Doc lifted up the rope so Josh, Jules and I could slip into the ring. Fully crying now, Mac grabbed us for a group hug as Joan snapped pictures of us. She promised to send me a few copies once the photos were finished developing.
"I really appreciate that," I told her.
Contrary to what you think, though, Mac's story isn't over. His story is just beginning.
No doubt about it.
Luigi
19 May 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Josh and Joan did something a little different for Jules's eighth birthday party. The festivities started at the park, where Mario and I helped organize games for the birthday boy and his classmates, like limbo, red light, green light, and tug-of-war. After the kids knocked down a piñata, Joan and Josh led a convoy of sorts to the arcade, where both kids and adults spent the rest of the day playing arcade games, with "Mario Bros" being the most popular. After pizza, cake and ice cream, Jules opened his presents, his favorite being the NES Mario and I had given him.
"Soon, he'll be too old for birthday parties," mused Joan as we helped her and Josh clean up.
"These kinds of birthday parties," I clarified.
As always, Mario and I got to take some leftover food home with us.
Luigi
8 June 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
Remember, back when I was still a mechanic, when the Merricks and I joked about Pac-Man and that someone should make a movie about catching ghosts? Well, someone finally did it. It's not about Pac-Man, though. It's about four scientists who decide to start a ghost-capturing business.
I decide to give the film a chance and buy a ticket, with Josh and Joan taking Jules to see it, as well. And let me tell you, Ghostbusters is equal parts scary and hilarious. Scary because of the ghosts and hilarious because of the jokes and slapstick. Who would've thought of calling a bureaucratic snob "d—less"? And who would've thought of building a proton pack to fight ghosts? In my opinion, it's too expensive and dangerous, and there's that little rule about "crossing the streams". Like I told Josh, Joan and Jules, a vacuum cleaner should do the trick.
But c'mon, do I really see myself dealing with ghosts sometime in the future?
Well—if I have to, yes.
And if it comes to that, then someone had better make a video game out of that.
Excuse me while I try to get that song out of my head.
Luigi
20 July 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
After we got off work, Mario and I decided to celebrate our first anniversary as plumbers. We bought a nice little cake from the grocery store and took it home, where we made a big show of cutting the first few slices. Mario rubbed a handful of the pastry in my face like a newlywed, and it wasn't long before we were engaged in a good old cake fight. The delicious throwdown ended in a draw, and by then, we were covered in cake and icing. We licked off as much as we could, and let the washer and dryer and shower take care of the rest. After changing into clean clothes, we took a cab to the closest bar and had a more proper celebration over curly fries and wine. And a huge banana split for dessert!
Happy plumber-versary—and many more to come!
Luigi
20 December 1984
Brooklyn, New York
Dear Diary,
While doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, Mario and I met up with Pauline and her new squeeze. His name is Stanley, and he specializes in house pest control. Normally, in a romantic comedy, Mario would go green with envy, but—this isn't a romantic comedy. The meeting wasn't awkward at all. Both men were pretty mature about the whole thing, Stanley seeming to understand that Mario will always have a place in Pauline's heart, and Mario genuinely hoping that Stanley can give her what he never could. We decided to meet up again sometime in the future before saying our goodbyes and continuing with our shopping.
"Exterminator, huh?" mused Mario once they were out of earshot.
"Yeah," I said.
"He's pretty good-looking, I'll admit," said Mario.
Mario was in a bit of a funk after we returned home, so I just let him be and spent some time dancing to Christmas tunes and decorating my own apartment. A little over an hour ago, he'd stopped by to apologize for his brief bout of moodiness and gave me some Christmas cookies. So sweet! Naturally, I forgave him and told him that I hoped he felt better. I wish to God that more people had a brother like mine.
Time to get some shut-eye. Happy Holidays!
Luigi
31 December 1984
Times Square, New York City
Dear Diary,
It's about ten minutes until the big ball drop. 1984 will be in the rearview mirror, and 1985 will stretch out before me. What sorts of adventures will 1985 bring? What joys and pitfalls await? Maybe I'll get to discover new places, meet new people and be a hero to others besides Mac. Maybe Mario and I will find out why those creepy-crawlies have been invading New York City's sewers. And after that—we'll continue on as plumbers, but maybe move on from sewers to sinks. That would be really nice.
And will love find Mario again in 1985? Will love find me? Is "the One" on the horizon for either of us?
You know, when we were boys, we always dreamed of going to a fantasyland and falling for a beautiful and kind princess and living in a castle. But don't all boys dream of that? And then boys and girls grow up and realize that there's no fantasyland, just the real world, with bills to pay and stuff like that. But maybe next year, Mario and I might wind up in a real-life equivalent of a fantasyland with a big, fancy castle and a warm-hearted princess. Heck, we might not even be in Brooklyn anymore once 1985 draws to a close.
That, however, is too far in the future. All that matters now is taking that first step on that yellow brick road once the clock strikes midnight.
I have to go now; they're starting to pour the champagne. Happy early New Year!
Luigi