Mario's Aus

The transition was less of a magical teleportation and more like being shoved through a giant, metaphysical toilet. One moment, SMG4 was hunched over his computer in the Showgrounds, desperately trying to edit a video of Mario eating a raw cactus; the next, he was face-down on a carpet that smelled faintly of stale popcorn and artificial butter.

"Ooh, my head," SMG4 groaned, pushing himself up. He adjusted his blue and white hat, blinking against the dim, ambient light. "Mario, if this is one of your stupid pranks involving a giant vacuum cleaner, I am going to lose it."

"It wasn't me!" Mario’s voice echoed from a few rows down. The red-clad plumber was currently wedged between two plush velvet seats, his legs kicking frantically in the air. "Mario was busy contemplating the existential majesty of a meatball! I didn't do nothing!"

"Everyone, stay calm!" Meggy shouted, already on her feet. Her hand instinctively went to her holster, but her Splatgun was missing. She dropped into a combat stance anyway, her eyes darting around the darkened room. "Tari, Bob, Fishy—you guys okay?"

"I'm fine, but my rubber ducky is very confused," Tari whimpered, clutching a plushie to her chest as she huddled behind Saiko.

"Ow, my ovaries!" Bob yelled, despite having no such anatomy. "Who turned off the lights? I can't see any of the fans I’m supposed to be scamming!"

The group found themselves in a massive, circular movie theater. The walls were lined with golden trimmings, and the ceiling stretched up into an infinite, starry void. There were no doors, no windows, and no emergency exits. Just hundreds of empty seats and a screen so large it felt like it could swallow the world.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" a voice boomed, vibrating through their very bones. It was high-pitched, manic, and carried the theatrical energy of a circus ringmaster on five cups of espresso. "Please, take a seat! Or don't! I'm a voice, not a cop!"

"Who's there?" SMG4 demanded, stepping toward the center of the aisle. "Show yourself! If you're another eldritch god trying to destroy the universe, we're actually booked until Tuesday."

"No gods here, just a fan of the show!" the voice chirped. A spotlight suddenly snapped onto the center of the screen. "You spend so much time making content, SMG4, but you never stop to look at the bigger picture. The *much* bigger picture. Today, we’re going on a field trip through the 'What-Ifs' and the 'Could-Have-Beens!'"

"Is there going to be snacks?" Mario asked, finally freeing himself from the chairs and landing on the floor with a heavy thud. "Because if there's no snacks, Mario is going to start a riot."

"Sit down, Mario," Saiko hissed, leaning her giant hammer against her shoulder. "Something's not right here."

"Oh, but everything is exactly as it should be!" the voice shouted. "Behold! The many faces of the Red One!"

The massive screen flickered to life, bathing the theater in a harsh white light. The crew shielded their eyes, squinting as an image began to form. It started with a video they all recognized: Mario, in his usual low-poly glory, running headfirst into a wall while screaming about spaghetti.

"Hey, look! It's me!" Mario pointed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I look-a so handsome. Look at that definition on my mustache."

"We see you every day, Mario," SMG4 sighed, crossing his arms. "Is this it? A clip show?"

"Patience, blue man!" the voice giggled.

The video on the screen began to glitch. The colors bled into deep purples and neon greens. The image of the Mario they knew fractured like a broken mirror, and suddenly, the screen split into dozens of small windows, each one showing a different version of the plumber.

The theater went silent.

In one window, a Mario dressed in a tattered, dark cloak stood atop a mountain of skulls, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, demonic red light. He wasn't shouting for pasta; he was holding a blade that hummed with dark energy.

In another, a sleek, robotic Mario with chrome plating and laser eyes was flying through a futuristic Mushroom Kingdom, blasting Koopas with cold, calculated efficiency.

"What the... what is that?" Meggy whispered, her eyes wide. "Is that really him?"

"Look at that one!" Luigi cried out, pointing to a frame near the bottom. His voice was filled with a mix of terror and genuine adoration. "Mario is... a giant star? He’s beautiful!"

Luigi stared at a version of his brother that appeared to be made entirely of celestial gas and shimmering constellations, drifting peacefully through a galaxy. It was a stark contrast to the Mario currently sitting next to him, who was trying to see if his tongue could reach his own forehead.

"There are so many," Tari said softly, her robotic eye zooming in on the screen. "Look, there’s a version where he’s a high-school student? And one where he’s a professional chef? He actually looks... competent in that one."

"Wait, wait, go back!" Bob shouted. "Is that a Mario made of pure gold? I need to find that universe and start some 'aggressive negotiations' immediately!"

The screen zoomed in on one particular universe. It showed a Mario who looked older, his mustache streaked with grey. He was sitting in a quiet house, tucked away in a forest. He wasn't acting like a moron; he was calmly reading a book to a group of small Toads, a gentle smile on his face. He looked wise, peaceful, and—most shockingly—normal.

"That's impossible," SMG4 muttered, stepping closer to the screen. "Mario’s DNA is like 90% stupidity and 10% flour. How can there be a version of him that’s... a functioning member of society?"

"Because, SMG4," the mysterious voice echoed, "the multiverse is infinite! For every time Mario tripped over a rock in your world, there's a world where he caught himself. For every spaghetti he ate, there's a world where he preferred... salad!"

The group let out a collective gasp of horror.

"Salad?" Mario shrieked, clutching his chest. "That's-a heresy! That's-a crime against humanity! Kill it! Kill that universe with fire!"

"It's fascinating," Luigi said, his fear momentarily replaced by awe. He walked right up to the edge of the stage, looking at the hundreds of Marios. There was a Mario who was a detective, a Mario who was a horrific eldritch monster with too many limbs, and even a Mario who seemed to be the king of the entire world. "I always knew my brother was special, but... to see all this? He’s the center of everything, isn't he?"

"In a way, yes," the voice replied. "He is the constant. The avatar of chaos. Whether he's saving the world or accidentally blowing it up, Mario is the spark that keeps the engine of reality turning."

The screen shifted again, showing a montage of "Hero Marios." These versions were tall, muscular, and moved with the grace of master martial artists. They fought Bowser with epic choreography, their capes billowing in the wind. They looked like the legendary heroes the posters always promised.

Meggy looked from the screen to the Mario sitting in the second row, who had somehow managed to get his head stuck in a popcorn bucket.

"It’s hard to believe they’re the same person," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. "But I guess the heart is the same, right?"

"Actually, the heart of the Mario in Universe 7-B is made of a very spicy meatball," the voice corrected.

"I knew it!" Mario yelled from inside the bucket.

Suddenly, the screen turned a deep, ominous crimson. The playful music that had been humming in the background cut out, replaced by a low, rhythmic thumping—like a heartbeat.

The images of the various Marios began to fade, leaving only one large frame in the center.

In this universe, the world was a wasteland. The Mushroom Kingdom was in ruins, the castle a jagged tooth of stone against a dying sun. A figure stood in the middle of the wreckage. It was Mario, but his red shirt was stained black with soot and grime. He didn't look stupid, and he didn't look like a hero. He looked tired.

He was holding a cracked picture frame. As the camera zoomed in, the crew saw what was in the photo: it was a picture of all of them. SMG4, Luigi, Meggy, Tari—everyone. But the glass was shattered, and the Mario in the video was weeping silently.

The theater went deathly quiet. Even Mario stopped struggling with the bucket, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"What... what happened to that one?" Tari whispered, her voice trembling.

"That," the voice said, its tone losing its manic edge and becoming chillingly neutral, "is a world where the idiot wasn't enough. A world where he grew up too late. He lost his friends, his brother, and his home because he couldn't find the strength to be the hero when it mattered."

Luigi felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He reached out and grabbed his Mario’s hand. The "real" Mario squeezed back, his usual goofy expression replaced by a rare moment of sobriety.

"Mario doesn't like that one," the plumber said quietly. "That Mario looks lonely."

"He is," the voice agreed. "But he is a part of the tapestry. Just as much as the King, the Monster, and the Chef."

The screen suddenly flashed bright white again, and the somber atmosphere evaporated as the voice regained its high-pitched energy.

"But hey! Let's not end on a downer! Check out this one where Mario is a literal piece of bread!"

The screen showed a loaf of sourdough with Mario’s hat and mustache, spinning around to a disco remix of the Mario Bros. theme.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Bob cheered. "I bet he's delicious with some butter!"

"I would eat me," Mario nodded approvingly. "I look-a tasty."

SMG4 sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay, look, Voice-In-The-Walls. This has been... enlightening. And terrifying. And weirdly emotional for a Tuesday. But why are we here? Why show us this?"

"Because," the voice whispered, the sound appearing to come from directly behind SMG4’s ear. "The walls between these worlds are getting thin, SMG4. The 'Glitch' doesn't just stay in one place. I wanted you to see what you're protecting. And what you have to lose."

Before anyone could ask what that meant, the theater began to dissolve. The velvet seats turned into pixels, the golden walls melted into lines of code, and the smell of popcorn was replaced by the familiar scent of SMG4’s dusty office.

With a sudden *pop*, the group was back in the Showgrounds.

Mario was sitting on the floor, the popcorn bucket still stuck on his head. Luigi was clutching Mario’s arm like a lifeline. Meggy and Saiko were already looking around for threats, while Tari was shaking her head to clear the stars from her vision.

"Is... is everyone okay?" SMG4 asked, checking his limbs to make sure he hadn't been replaced by a bread version of himself.

"I think so," Meggy said, slowly relaxing her stance. "That was... a lot to take in."

"I want to be the Star Mario," Luigi murmured, staring off into space. "He looked so peaceful. No ghosts. No taxes. Just sparkles."

"I want to find the Gold Mario," Bob added, already pulling out a map of the multiverse he had apparently drawn on a napkin. "We have a date with destiny and a heavy-duty melting pot."

Mario finally pulled the bucket off his head. He looked at his friends, then at his own gloved hands. For a second, the group thought he might say something profound—something about the weight of his existence across the cosmos.

"Hey, SMG4?" Mario said.

"Yeah, Mario?"

"Do you think the Bread Mario has to worry about mold? Because that would be a really crappy way to go."

SMG4 stared at him for a long beat, then let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. He walked over and patted Mario on the shoulder.

"I don't know, Mario. I really don't know. But I'm glad you're the one we've got."

"Me too," Mario grinned, his stomach letting out a thunderous growl. "Now, who wants to go get spaghetti? All that watching myself made me hungry for myself. Wait, no, that sounds weird. Just give me the pasta!"

As the gang headed toward the castle, arguing about which universe had the best toppings, SMG4 glanced back at the empty space where the theater had been. For a split second, he thought he saw a flicker of a movie screen in the air, showing a version of him—SMG4—sitting at a desk, writing this very story.

He shook his head and ran to catch up with the others. Some things were better left unanalyzed.

Deep in the void of the multiverse, the mysterious voice chuckled. "Oh, the fun we're going to have. Roll credits!"