Chapter Seventeen:

The Sorrow of Three

'Dear diary, I wish I could write down my thoughts in my notebook, but it was stolen. The thief was none other than Mario, the avatar of our universe, someone whom SMG4 has trusted for years, despite the instances where he caused some crap. Now, he just stole it, just so he can find some secrets that will change his life.

'And here I am, at the Showgrounds, unable to get my mind off the matter. What Mario did was just unthinkable, and this means war. What the hell am I saying, I've fought that idiot Italian before, when I was a goddamn villain. Now, it's different, I'm a Super Meme Guardian, and Mario's the villain. I want my notebook back, but I don't know where Mario even took it.

'Until then, here I am, just writing in my mind, welling with tears, as I stand in the rain by the castle. God, this stings more than when we had to sacrifice Terrance to save all of creation from Zero. Just why? Worse, if Mario opens the notebook, then the world will come to find out everything, including what happened in that igloo all of those years ago.

'When I get that damn notebook back, by hook or by crook, I will have a lot to write about. It may be days, or maybe years before I get to write another diary entry. Hell, I'll probably have a lot of sh*t to write about, I'll be busy for hours. Eh, whatever...'

He stood outside the entrance to the castle, letting the rain fall around him, as the bitter memory of the theft stung SMG3 like a fresh wound. It had been hours, a whole day, since he saw that dim-witted, spaghetti-loving, mustached Italian avatar take off with his notebook to who knew where.

And he was boiling with resentment towards Mario. He hadn't felt that much resentment towards the plumber since his days as SMG4's evil nemesis, but this resentment was different now.

Tears rolled down SMG3's cheeks, stained his beard, and dropped onto the ground like the raindrops that had been pouring for the past hour. His overalls had gotten drenched by this point, and his boots were sinking into the drenched earth around him.

Deep within his heart, he felt... lost. SMG3 had so many thoughts he couldn't describe, and he wanted to write it all down on paper, but it was easier to do it in a notebook. More tears came as he thought of his beloved diary, his longtime collection of his written-down sentiments. He stared out across the Showgrounds, staring into the trees beyond.

Perhaps he was waiting for a sign, perhaps he hoped Mario had a change of heart, and would return with the notebook.

Thankfully, the idiot didn't steal the key to the lock that Three had placed on the notebook. Mario really was that stupid. If he'd been more intelligent, and he'd gotten the key, then it was game over. In a manner of speaking, the overweight spaghetti-eater could seek out and nab the key any time, if he managed to find it.

SMG3 kept that locked in his room, making sure nobody found it. It was a miracle he didn't put it in the same spot where Mario found the diary the first time. And thank goodness EggDog had thwarted the dumbass' first attempt, where would SMG3 be without his beloved pet?

Guard dog memes were so useful.

He turned away, turning towards the door, and walked inside the castle, removing himself from the rain. SMG3 stood in the doorway for a moment, staring into the entrance hall, and at the still under-construction upper-level while dripping wet. He barely wiped his feet on the carpet, and closed the doors behind himself, strolling through the castle's blue-white halls.

Drained of any other energy, emotionally lost, and flustered, SMG3 wandered into the Gaming Room, and stepped over the circular sun-themed tile that had once belonged in Peach's Castle until the day it had to be destroyed amidst the Demonic Keyboard/Perfect Video crisis.

The villain-turned Super Meme Guardian helped himself to the desktop, remembering when he'd reacted to Nintendo-related memes with Mario for a while. Those cake memes had been pretty funny to look at, and SMG3 recalled trying to make a cake themed after himself a few weeks ago, only for it to be a disaster.

Perhaps the world never needed an SMG3 Cake, especially when his cooking skills were on par with Meggy's to a degree.

'Dear diary, perhaps making an SMG3 cake isn't a good idea...'

More tears fell and he dropped to his knees as the former aspiring YouTuber thought about his lost notebook again. He looked up to see a Mario image on the desk, and grabbed it, his fist shaking with anger, and he threw the picture to the floor. And then, he looked at his phone, looking at every image he'd taken with himself holding the diary in the past year.

One couldn't just make a new notebook, just to vent their frustrations in it. That diary was the most important, the most crucial, and the most vital artifact that SMG3 could never give away to anyone, especially after he'd written down everything related to the events in the igloo.

And, despite the trouble it gave him and SMG4, SMG3 felt bad for letting that parrot see something so freaky. It was probably dead now, even as its soul carried the memory into the afterlife.

He drew his phone from his pocket, and opened the text window, seeing the messages that he'd gotten from the many livestream viewers he'd befriended online and in reality. They were all asking how he was doing, and some were wondering when the next stream would be, and SMG3's lungs seemed to constrict a little.

Then again, perhaps his fans could try and help. With a heavy heart, SMG3 began responding to his loyal viewers; 'Life hasn't been so easy as of recent. I lost my notebook, and before you ask, it was stolen by someone we knew and trusted...'