Mario

Mario sat cross-legged on the polished floor of SMG4’s newly renovated castle, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in deep concentration. He wasn't solving a complex puzzle or pondering the mysteries of the universe. Instead, he was trying to see how many marshmallows he could balance on his nose while simultaneously humming the theme song to a spaghetti commercial.

"One... two... three-a..." Mario whispered, his eyes crossing as he added a fourth fluffy white cube to the stack. "Wahoo! Mario is the king of the snacks!"

He was completely oblivious to the atmosphere in the room. Usually, the castle was a chaotic blend of memes, screaming, and occasional property damage. Today, however, there was a strange, heavy silence—a silence filled with the rhythmic tapping of fingers and the intense, unblinking stares of the female members of the crew.

Meggy stood by the balcony, her usual competitive fire replaced by a soft, glazed expression. She wasn't practicing her shots; she was watching Mario’s mustache twitch every time he breathed. Saiko sat on the nearby sofa, her massive hammer resting forgotten on the floor, her chin propped on her hand as she sighed dreamily at the plumber’s antics. Even Tari, usually shy and focused on her games, had her controller upside down, her blue eyes wide and shimmering with a strange adoration.

In the corner, Karen the cat, usually the most cynical and overworked person in the Mushroom Kingdom, had stopped filing her paperwork. She adjusted her glasses, her tail twitching with a predatory sort of affection as she watched Mario accidentally sneeze, sending the marshmallows flying.

"Mama mia!" Mario giggled, chasing a stray marshmallow as it rolled across the floor. "Get back here, you little-a marshmallow bitch!"

At the center of the room, SMG4 was hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hat was slightly askew. He was in the middle of a high-stakes editing session, and the sound of Mario’s high-pitched giggling was starting to grate on his last nerve.

"Mario, for the love of memes, can you please be quiet for five minutes?" SMG4 snapped without looking up. "I’m trying to finish this video before the deadline, and your 'wahoos' are throwing off my rhythm!"

The effect was instantaneous. Mario froze, his hand inches away from a marshmallow. His shoulders slumped, and his large, blue eyes began to water. His lower lip trembled as he looked down at his overalls.

"Oh... okay," Mario whispered, his voice cracking. "Mario will be a quiet boy. Mario is sorry for being a nuisance."

He sat back on his heels, curling into a small, sad ball of red fabric. The silence that followed was no longer heavy; it was lethal.

SMG4 felt a sudden drop in the room’s temperature. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He slowly turned his head away from his laptop, only to find four pairs of eyes boring into his soul with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Meggy’s hand was gripping the railing so hard the wood was cracking. Saiko had stood up, her aura radiating a dark, pink energy that made the air hum. Tari’s face was shadowed, her usual kindness replaced by a chilling, silent judgment. Even Karen had unsheathed her claws, the metal-like nails clicking against the floorboards.

"Uh... girls?" SMG4 gulped, his sweat beads turning into actual puddles. "Is... is everything okay? I just needed some silence, you know? The video—"

"You made him sad," Meggy said, her voice a low, dangerous hiss.

"He was just being cute," Saiko added, her grip tightening on the handle of her hammer. "And you stepped on his heart like it was a common Goomba."

"He’s an innocent soul, SMG4," Tari whispered, her voice devoid of its usual stutter. "How could you be so heartless?"

Karen didn't say anything. She just narrowed her eyes and made a slow, horizontal cutting motion across her throat.

Before SMG4 could defend himself, the girls turned as one, their focus shifting back to the dejected plumber. In a synchronized movement that would have made a professional dance troupe jealous, they swarmed him.

"Oh, Mario! Don't listen to that mean old meme-man," Meggy cooed, dropping to her knees and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "You can make as much noise as you want. You’re the star of the show!"

Saiko knelt on his other side, patting his head with a gentleness that seemed impossible for a girl who regularly smashed buildings. "Do you want me to beat him up for you? I’ll do it. Just say the word, Red."

Tari reached into her pocket and pulled out a rare, golden-wrapped chocolate bar she had been saving. "Here, Mario. This will make you feel better. Please don't be sad."

Mario blinked, his sadness evaporating instantly as he was surrounded by warmth and snacks. "Ooh! For Mario? You girls are so nice! I thought I was being a stinky brain."

"Never," Karen said, appearing behind him and placing a hand on his back. "You’re the only person in this kingdom who doesn't make me want to quit my job and move to the moon."

The rest of the crew—Bob, Fishy Boopkins, and Luigi—stood near the entrance of the main hall, watching the scene with dropped jaws.

"Holy hell," Bob muttered, his green eyes glowing with confusion. "Since when did Mario become a chick magnet? Is it the mustache? Is it the smell of old cheese? I need to know his secrets so I can get some of that sweet, sweet attention."

"I’ve never seen them like this," Boopkins chirped, hugging his anime waifu pillow. "It's like they’re in a trance! Maybe Mario is a secret protagonist of a harem anime!"

Luigi, however, was mostly concerned for his brother’s safety. The look in the girls' eyes wasn't just friendly; it was possessive. It was the kind of look a dragon gives its favorite pile of gold.

"U-uh, hey guys?" Luigi stammered, taking a tentative step forward. "Maybe we should give Mario some space? He looks a little... crowded?"

Luigi reached out a hand toward Mario’s shoulder, hoping to pull his brother away from the suffocating circle of affection. He didn't even make it two steps.

A green blur intercepted him.

Melony, who had been napping on a nearby pedestal, was suddenly standing directly in Luigi’s path. Her Fierce Deity mask wasn't on, but her eyes held a sharp, wakeful intensity that was far more terrifying. She blocked his path with her heavy broadsword, the tip of the blade resting inches from Luigi’s boots.

"He’s happy right now, Luigi," Melony said softly, though there was an unmistakable edge to her tone. "Don't disturb the peace."

Luigi froze, his hands raised in surrender. "Melony! It’s me! His brother! I just wanted to see if he was okay!"

"He’s more than okay," Melony replied, glancing back at Mario, who was currently being hand-fed chocolate by Tari while Meggy brushed some dust off his hat. "He’s protected."

"Protected from what?!" Luigi squeaked. "We’re in a castle! The only danger here is SMG4’s ego!"

From the floor, Mario looked up, grinning through a mouthful of chocolate. "Hey, Luigi! Look! I’m a princess now! Everyone is being so helpful. Karen even offered to do my taxes!"

"I’ll do them for free," Karen added, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "And I’ll make sure you get a massive refund for 'emotional support spaghetti' costs."

SMG4, feeling completely sidelined and slightly threatened, slowly retreated toward his desk. "Okay, fine! Mario can scream! He can set the kitchen on fire! Just please stop looking at me like you’re going to harvest my organs!"

The girls ignored him. They were too busy debating what to do for Mario next.

"We should take him to the park," Meggy suggested. "He loves the fountain."

"No, he needs a feast," Saiko countered. "I’ll hijack a pasta truck. Only the best for the Red One."

"Maybe we can just stay here and watch movies?" Tari offered. "I have a collection of documentaries about the history of noodles."

Mario’s eyes lit up. "Noodle movies?! Oh, Tari, you know the way to a man’s stomach-heart!"

As the girls began to lead Mario away toward the home theater room, Melony remained behind for a moment, her sword still barring Luigi’s way. She watched them go, a small, tiny smile playing on her lips before she turned her gaze back to the green plumber.

"Go play with your rocks, Luigi," she said, her voice returning to its usual sleepy lilt, though she didn't move her sword until the group had disappeared around the corner.

Luigi stood in the middle of the hall, blinking rapidly. "I... I think I need to call a therapist. Or a priest. Or both."

"I'm telling you, man," Bob said, walking over and patting Luigi on the back. "It's the mustache. I'm going to grow one out of my rags. Just you watch. By tomorrow, I’ll have a line of babes out the door."

"I don't think it's the mustache, Bob," Boopkins sighed. "I think Mario is just... Mario. And for some reason, the world has finally realized how precious he is."

Back in the theater room, Mario was buried under a mountain of pillows and blankets. Meggy was on his left, Tari was on his right, and Saiko was perched on the back of the sofa like a guardian gargoyle. Karen had somehow produced a tray of sparkling cider and crackers, serving them with a professional grace that she usually reserved for... well, nobody.

Mario let out a long, contented sigh, leaning back into the cushions. "You know, girls... Mario usually has to die or save the world to get this much attention. This is much better. No Bowser, no eldritch horrors, just Mario and his bestest friends."

The girls exchanged looks—looks that were a mixture of genuine affection and a terrifying, unspoken agreement. They weren't going to let anyone ruin this. Not SMG4, not Luigi, and certainly not any villains. Mario was their idiot, and they were going to adore him whether he liked it or not.

"Don't worry, Mario," Meggy whispered, patting his hand. "We’re not going anywhere."

"Yeah," Saiko added, her eyes flashing dangerously as she looked toward the door. "And nobody is getting in, either."

Mario, blissfully unaware of the protective wall of steel and spirit being built around him, simply stuffed another chocolate in his mouth. "Wahoo! Life is good-a!"

Outside the room, the rest of the crew sat in the hallway, listening to the muffled sounds of a documentary about linguine.

"So..." SMG4 said, breaking the silence. "What do we do now?"

"We wait," Luigi said, sitting down on the floor with a sigh. "And we hope they don't decide to start a cult. Because I'm pretty sure Mario would be a very confusing god."

"I'd join," Bob shrugged. "As long as there's a gift shop."