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Mario's harem?
Fandom: SMG4
Created: 4/9/2026
Tags
Crack / Parody HumorParodySatireHumorOOC (Out of Character)Canon SettingAdventureJealousy
The Rizz of the Red Plumber
Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Showgrounds, casting colorful patterns across the floor of the main hall. Usually, this time of day was marked by the sounds of an explosion, a high-pitched scream, or the rhythmic thud of someone being kicked into the stratosphere. Today, however, there was only the hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of SMG4’s keyboard clacking away in his room.
Tari sat on the sofa, her metallic arm whirring softly as she toyed with a controller, but she wasn't actually playing anything. She looked around the room, her eyebrows furrowing in genuine concern.
"Does... does anyone else feel like something is missing?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Meggy, who was busy polishing her Splattershot, paused and looked up. She scanned the room, counting heads. SMG4 was upstairs, Saiko was tuning her guitar in the corner, and Luigi was nervously dusting a vase.
"Now that you mention it," Meggy said, narrowing her eyes. "It’s been three hours and I haven't heard a single 'Mama Mia' or the sound of a refrigerator being raided. Where’s Mario?"
Luigi stopped dusting, his face turning a pale shade of green. "I haven't seen him since last night! Usually, he wakes me up by jumping on my bed and demanding breakfast spaghetti, but this morning his bed was empty. I thought he just went to the store early!"
"Mario? Going to the store? Voluntarily?" Saiko scoffed, leaning her giant hammer against the wall. "The only way he goes to the store is if they’re having a 99% off sale on pasta or if he’s being chased by the police."
SMG4 emerged from his room, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Guys, I can't work in these conditions. It’s too quiet. I’m actually getting productive work done and it’s terrifying me. Where is the fat idiot?"
"That’s what we’re trying to figure out," Meggy replied, standing up. "Maybe we should check the local pizzerias? Or the dumpster behind the spaghetti factory?"
Suddenly, the heavy front doors of the castle didn't just open; they were kicked open with the force of a thousand memes. A bright, golden light seemed to emanate from the doorway, blinding everyone in the room. High-energy funk music began to play from an unknown source, vibrating the very floorboards.
A silhouette stepped through the light. It was short, round, and walked with a swagger that defied the laws of physics. As the light faded, the gang gasped in unison.
It was Mario. But not the Mario they knew.
He was wearing a pair of pitch-black designer shades that gleamed under the chandeliers. His usual red cap was tilted at a jaunty, "cool" angle. He wasn't covered in sauce, he wasn't picking his nose, and most shockingly, he was walking with his chest puffed out like a majestic pigeon.
But he wasn't alone.
Flanking him on either side were three women that no one in the room recognized. One was a tall, elegant elf-like creature with shimmering silver hair; another was a stylish human girl in high-end streetwear; and the third was a literal princess from a dimension they hadn't even visited yet, draped in silks. They were all giggling, leaning in close to Mario as if he were the most fascinating man on the planet.
"Hello, peasants," Mario said, his voice dropping an octave into a smooth, gravelly baritone. He adjusted his shades with a flick of his wrist.
The silence that followed was deafening. SMG4’s jaw hit the floor. Tari dropped her controller. Luigi looked like he was having a stroke.
"Mario?" Luigi finally squeaked. "Who... who are these people? And why are you acting like you’re in a cologne commercial?"
Mario smirked, a look of pure, unadulterated confidence crossing his face. He wrapped his arms around the waists of the girls next to him. "Oh, these? Just some friends Mario met while he was out being... legendary."
"Is this a joke?" Meggy asked, walking closer and squinting at the girls. "Mario, you didn't hire actors, did you? Because I know for a fact you spent all your money on that 'Infinite Pasta' subscription last week."
The silver-haired girl laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Hire us? Oh, you’re funny. Mario saved my kingdom from a boredom demon by teaching us the 'Wahoo' dance. He’s a hero."
"And he bought me the last limited-edition designer handbag at the mall," the streetwear girl added, batting her eyelashes at the red plumber. "He’s so generous."
"He also wrestled a bear for my amusement," the princess chimed in, leaning her head on Mario’s shoulder. "He’s so rugged."
Bob, who had been lurking in the shadows hoping someone would notice his new gold chain, stumbled forward, his eye-holes glowing with intense jealousy.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" Bob screamed, his swords flailing wildly. "MARIO?! YOU?! HOW?! I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GET 'BITCHES' FOR THREE SEASONS AND I HAVE ZERO! YOU LOOK LIKE A TRASH CAN FILLED WITH RAVIOLI! HOW DO YOU HAVE A HAREM?!"
Mario pulled out a gold-plated spaghetti noodle from his pocket and began to chew on it slowly, never taking his eyes off Bob. "It’s called 'Rizz,' Bob. Something you wouldn't know about. Mario has ascended. Mario is now the Alpha and the Omega. The Spaghetti and the Sauce."
"I don't believe it," SMG4 muttered, pulling out his phone to record the scene. "This has to be a glitch. There’s no way Mario’s charisma stat jumped from -50 to 100 overnight. Mario, tell us the truth. Did you find a magic lamp? Did you sell your soul to a demon? Did you eat a weird mushroom?"
Mario let out a short, sophisticated chuckle. "Mario did nothing but be himself. The world finally realized that this mustache isn't just for show. It’s a magnet for destiny."
He turned to the girls, his smirk widening. "Ladies, would you excuse me for a moment? Mario must speak with his... less fortunate associates."
"Of course, Mario-kun," they chirped in unison, drifting over to the lounge area where they began to talk amongst themselves, completely ignoring the rest of the cast.
Mario strutted over to the group, his shades reflecting their bewildered faces. He leaned against the wall, crossing his legs. "So. Any questions? Or are you all too stunned by Mario’s glow-up?"
"I have several!" Saiko shouted, pointing her hammer at him. "First of all, you’re wearing deodorant. I can smell it from here. It smells like... sandalwood? Since when do you know what sandalwood is?"
"Since Mario realized that smelling like a wet basement wasn't helping his brand," Mario replied smoothly.
"And your stomach!" Tari pointed out. "It’s... well, it’s still there, but you’re holding it in really well!"
"Painful, but worth it," Mario whispered out of the side of his mouth, before returning to his cool persona. "The ladies love a man who can hold his breath for three hours."
Bob was currently on his knees, shaking his fists at the ceiling. "THIS IS UNFAIR! I AM THE SEXY ONE! I HAVE THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL AND THE SOUL OF A RAP GOD! WHY DOES THE FAT ITALIAN GET THE LADIES?!"
Mario patted Bob on the head. "Don't worry, Bob. Maybe one day you’ll be half as cool as Mario. But for now, you’re just a side character in the Mario Show."
Meggy walked around Mario, inspecting him like a drill sergeant. "Okay, cut the crap, Red. What’s the catch? Are these girls actually undercover FBI agents? Are they ghosts? Are they cardboard cutouts that I just haven't poked hard enough yet?"
Mario sighed, looking disappointed. "Meggy, Meggy, Meggy. Can't a man just enjoy his natural magnetism? Why must there be a 'catch'?"
"Because you once tried to marry a pizza!" she reminded him.
"And she was a beautiful bride!" Mario snapped, momentarily losing his cool before adjusting his shades and regaining his composure. "But Mario has moved on to bigger and better things. These ladies appreciate the finer things in life. Like my collection of rare, vintage spaghetti strainers."
"He showed us the strainers for two hours," the silver-haired girl called out from the sofa. "It was so brave of him to be so passionate."
SMG4 rubbed his temples. "I can't take this. My brain is melting. Mario, if this is a prank, it’s the most elaborate one you’ve ever pulled. If it’s not... then the world is ending and I need to go delete my browser history before the apocalypse."
"No prank," Mario said, checking a gold watch that definitely wasn't there five minutes ago. "In fact, we were just about to head out. Mario has a reservation at the most exclusive restaurant in the Mushroom Kingdom."
"The one that only serves five-star truffles and aged wine?" Luigi asked, eyes wide.
"No, the one that has a ball pit and unlimited breadsticks," Mario corrected. "But they’re giving me the VIP table because I told them I knew the owner. Which was a lie, but I said it with such 'Rizz' that they believed me."
He whistled, and the three girls immediately stood up and flocked back to his side. Mario began to lead them toward the exit, his swagger even more pronounced than before.
"Wait! Mario!" Bob yelled, running after him. "Teach me! Teach me the ways of the Rizz! I’ll do anything! I’ll even stop calling you a fatass for a whole week!"
Mario paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. He lowered his shades just enough to reveal one sparkling blue eye.
"Rule number one, Bob," Mario said, his voice a whisper of pure cool. "Always stay hungry. But mostly for attention."
With a final "Wahoo" that sounded more like a smooth jazz riff than a joyful shout, Mario and his entourage vanished out the door, leaving the rest of the gang in a state of absolute psychological devastation.
The castle returned to its previous silence, but it wasn't peaceful anymore. It was heavy with the weight of what they had just witnessed.
"Did... did Mario just win at life?" Tari asked softly.
SMG4 looked at his camera, then at the door, then back at his camera. "I don't know what just happened, but I’m definitely making a video about it. I’m going to call it 'The Rizzler of Oz' or something."
"I’m going to go lie down," Luigi sighed, trudging toward the stairs. "I think my brain has officially retired."
Meggy stayed staring at the door for a long time, her Splattershot forgotten on the floor. "I give it twenty-four hours," she muttered. "Twenty-four hours before he accidentally sets one of their dresses on fire with a stray fireball or tries to eat their jewelry because he thinks it’s candy."
In the distance, the faint sound of Mario’s smooth, funky theme music echoed through the hills, a reminder that for one glorious, confusing day, the dumbest man in the kingdom was also the smoothest.
And somewhere, in the depths of the castle, Bob was still screaming.
Tari sat on the sofa, her metallic arm whirring softly as she toyed with a controller, but she wasn't actually playing anything. She looked around the room, her eyebrows furrowing in genuine concern.
"Does... does anyone else feel like something is missing?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Meggy, who was busy polishing her Splattershot, paused and looked up. She scanned the room, counting heads. SMG4 was upstairs, Saiko was tuning her guitar in the corner, and Luigi was nervously dusting a vase.
"Now that you mention it," Meggy said, narrowing her eyes. "It’s been three hours and I haven't heard a single 'Mama Mia' or the sound of a refrigerator being raided. Where’s Mario?"
Luigi stopped dusting, his face turning a pale shade of green. "I haven't seen him since last night! Usually, he wakes me up by jumping on my bed and demanding breakfast spaghetti, but this morning his bed was empty. I thought he just went to the store early!"
"Mario? Going to the store? Voluntarily?" Saiko scoffed, leaning her giant hammer against the wall. "The only way he goes to the store is if they’re having a 99% off sale on pasta or if he’s being chased by the police."
SMG4 emerged from his room, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Guys, I can't work in these conditions. It’s too quiet. I’m actually getting productive work done and it’s terrifying me. Where is the fat idiot?"
"That’s what we’re trying to figure out," Meggy replied, standing up. "Maybe we should check the local pizzerias? Or the dumpster behind the spaghetti factory?"
Suddenly, the heavy front doors of the castle didn't just open; they were kicked open with the force of a thousand memes. A bright, golden light seemed to emanate from the doorway, blinding everyone in the room. High-energy funk music began to play from an unknown source, vibrating the very floorboards.
A silhouette stepped through the light. It was short, round, and walked with a swagger that defied the laws of physics. As the light faded, the gang gasped in unison.
It was Mario. But not the Mario they knew.
He was wearing a pair of pitch-black designer shades that gleamed under the chandeliers. His usual red cap was tilted at a jaunty, "cool" angle. He wasn't covered in sauce, he wasn't picking his nose, and most shockingly, he was walking with his chest puffed out like a majestic pigeon.
But he wasn't alone.
Flanking him on either side were three women that no one in the room recognized. One was a tall, elegant elf-like creature with shimmering silver hair; another was a stylish human girl in high-end streetwear; and the third was a literal princess from a dimension they hadn't even visited yet, draped in silks. They were all giggling, leaning in close to Mario as if he were the most fascinating man on the planet.
"Hello, peasants," Mario said, his voice dropping an octave into a smooth, gravelly baritone. He adjusted his shades with a flick of his wrist.
The silence that followed was deafening. SMG4’s jaw hit the floor. Tari dropped her controller. Luigi looked like he was having a stroke.
"Mario?" Luigi finally squeaked. "Who... who are these people? And why are you acting like you’re in a cologne commercial?"
Mario smirked, a look of pure, unadulterated confidence crossing his face. He wrapped his arms around the waists of the girls next to him. "Oh, these? Just some friends Mario met while he was out being... legendary."
"Is this a joke?" Meggy asked, walking closer and squinting at the girls. "Mario, you didn't hire actors, did you? Because I know for a fact you spent all your money on that 'Infinite Pasta' subscription last week."
The silver-haired girl laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Hire us? Oh, you’re funny. Mario saved my kingdom from a boredom demon by teaching us the 'Wahoo' dance. He’s a hero."
"And he bought me the last limited-edition designer handbag at the mall," the streetwear girl added, batting her eyelashes at the red plumber. "He’s so generous."
"He also wrestled a bear for my amusement," the princess chimed in, leaning her head on Mario’s shoulder. "He’s so rugged."
Bob, who had been lurking in the shadows hoping someone would notice his new gold chain, stumbled forward, his eye-holes glowing with intense jealousy.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" Bob screamed, his swords flailing wildly. "MARIO?! YOU?! HOW?! I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GET 'BITCHES' FOR THREE SEASONS AND I HAVE ZERO! YOU LOOK LIKE A TRASH CAN FILLED WITH RAVIOLI! HOW DO YOU HAVE A HAREM?!"
Mario pulled out a gold-plated spaghetti noodle from his pocket and began to chew on it slowly, never taking his eyes off Bob. "It’s called 'Rizz,' Bob. Something you wouldn't know about. Mario has ascended. Mario is now the Alpha and the Omega. The Spaghetti and the Sauce."
"I don't believe it," SMG4 muttered, pulling out his phone to record the scene. "This has to be a glitch. There’s no way Mario’s charisma stat jumped from -50 to 100 overnight. Mario, tell us the truth. Did you find a magic lamp? Did you sell your soul to a demon? Did you eat a weird mushroom?"
Mario let out a short, sophisticated chuckle. "Mario did nothing but be himself. The world finally realized that this mustache isn't just for show. It’s a magnet for destiny."
He turned to the girls, his smirk widening. "Ladies, would you excuse me for a moment? Mario must speak with his... less fortunate associates."
"Of course, Mario-kun," they chirped in unison, drifting over to the lounge area where they began to talk amongst themselves, completely ignoring the rest of the cast.
Mario strutted over to the group, his shades reflecting their bewildered faces. He leaned against the wall, crossing his legs. "So. Any questions? Or are you all too stunned by Mario’s glow-up?"
"I have several!" Saiko shouted, pointing her hammer at him. "First of all, you’re wearing deodorant. I can smell it from here. It smells like... sandalwood? Since when do you know what sandalwood is?"
"Since Mario realized that smelling like a wet basement wasn't helping his brand," Mario replied smoothly.
"And your stomach!" Tari pointed out. "It’s... well, it’s still there, but you’re holding it in really well!"
"Painful, but worth it," Mario whispered out of the side of his mouth, before returning to his cool persona. "The ladies love a man who can hold his breath for three hours."
Bob was currently on his knees, shaking his fists at the ceiling. "THIS IS UNFAIR! I AM THE SEXY ONE! I HAVE THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL AND THE SOUL OF A RAP GOD! WHY DOES THE FAT ITALIAN GET THE LADIES?!"
Mario patted Bob on the head. "Don't worry, Bob. Maybe one day you’ll be half as cool as Mario. But for now, you’re just a side character in the Mario Show."
Meggy walked around Mario, inspecting him like a drill sergeant. "Okay, cut the crap, Red. What’s the catch? Are these girls actually undercover FBI agents? Are they ghosts? Are they cardboard cutouts that I just haven't poked hard enough yet?"
Mario sighed, looking disappointed. "Meggy, Meggy, Meggy. Can't a man just enjoy his natural magnetism? Why must there be a 'catch'?"
"Because you once tried to marry a pizza!" she reminded him.
"And she was a beautiful bride!" Mario snapped, momentarily losing his cool before adjusting his shades and regaining his composure. "But Mario has moved on to bigger and better things. These ladies appreciate the finer things in life. Like my collection of rare, vintage spaghetti strainers."
"He showed us the strainers for two hours," the silver-haired girl called out from the sofa. "It was so brave of him to be so passionate."
SMG4 rubbed his temples. "I can't take this. My brain is melting. Mario, if this is a prank, it’s the most elaborate one you’ve ever pulled. If it’s not... then the world is ending and I need to go delete my browser history before the apocalypse."
"No prank," Mario said, checking a gold watch that definitely wasn't there five minutes ago. "In fact, we were just about to head out. Mario has a reservation at the most exclusive restaurant in the Mushroom Kingdom."
"The one that only serves five-star truffles and aged wine?" Luigi asked, eyes wide.
"No, the one that has a ball pit and unlimited breadsticks," Mario corrected. "But they’re giving me the VIP table because I told them I knew the owner. Which was a lie, but I said it with such 'Rizz' that they believed me."
He whistled, and the three girls immediately stood up and flocked back to his side. Mario began to lead them toward the exit, his swagger even more pronounced than before.
"Wait! Mario!" Bob yelled, running after him. "Teach me! Teach me the ways of the Rizz! I’ll do anything! I’ll even stop calling you a fatass for a whole week!"
Mario paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. He lowered his shades just enough to reveal one sparkling blue eye.
"Rule number one, Bob," Mario said, his voice a whisper of pure cool. "Always stay hungry. But mostly for attention."
With a final "Wahoo" that sounded more like a smooth jazz riff than a joyful shout, Mario and his entourage vanished out the door, leaving the rest of the gang in a state of absolute psychological devastation.
The castle returned to its previous silence, but it wasn't peaceful anymore. It was heavy with the weight of what they had just witnessed.
"Did... did Mario just win at life?" Tari asked softly.
SMG4 looked at his camera, then at the door, then back at his camera. "I don't know what just happened, but I’m definitely making a video about it. I’m going to call it 'The Rizzler of Oz' or something."
"I’m going to go lie down," Luigi sighed, trudging toward the stairs. "I think my brain has officially retired."
Meggy stayed staring at the door for a long time, her Splattershot forgotten on the floor. "I give it twenty-four hours," she muttered. "Twenty-four hours before he accidentally sets one of their dresses on fire with a stray fireball or tries to eat their jewelry because he thinks it’s candy."
In the distance, the faint sound of Mario’s smooth, funky theme music echoed through the hills, a reminder that for one glorious, confusing day, the dumbest man in the kingdom was also the smoothest.
And somewhere, in the depths of the castle, Bob was still screaming.