Mario fanclub

The morning sun hit the gleaming spires of the new Mushroom Kingdom castle, a structure built with elegance, precision, and a budget that SMG4 was still crying about in his sleep. Inside, the air was filled with the scent of fresh mahogany, expensive wax, and—suddenly—the pungent, overwhelming aroma of overcooked pasta and burning rubber.

Mario was currently using the grand staircase as a giant slip-and-slide, having lubricated the marble with three gallons of extra-virgin olive oil.

"Wahoo! Look at me, I’m a majestic seal!" Mario shrieked, his voice cracking as he hurtled downward. He wasn't wearing his overalls; instead, he had opted for a tutu made entirely of pepperoni slices.

He slammed into the bottom of the stairs, crashing directly into a decorative vase that probably cost more than his life insurance policy. Shards of ceramic flew everywhere, one narrowly missing SMG4’s ear as the meme-lord stepped into the foyer.

"Mario! For the love of all that is holy, stop!" SMG4 screamed, his hands clutching his head. He looked like he hadn't slept in three days, mostly because he hadn't. "We have been in this castle for less than a month, and you’ve already turned the kitchen into a war zone and the hallway into a slip-and-slide!"

Mario stood up, a single pepperoni slice stuck to his forehead. He stared at SMG4 with wide, vacant eyes, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. "But SMG4, the floor was thirsty. I gave it a drink."

Meggy walked in from the training room, wiping sweat from her brow. She looked at the mess, then at Mario, and let out a long, weary sigh. "Mario, we talked about this. You can’t keep doing this stuff. People are starting to think we’re running an asylum, not a kingdom."

"Ooh, an asylum!" Mario clapped his hands together. "Do they have pudding?"

"No, Mario, they don't have pudding," Saiko snapped, leaning against a nearby pillar with her hammer resting on her shoulder. "They have straightjackets. Which, honestly, is looking like a great fashion choice for you right about now."

Tari hovered nervously behind Meggy, clutching her meta-runner arm. "Maybe he’s just... expressive? In a very, very loud and destructive way?"

Mario ignored them all. He reached into his pocket—or rather, the folds of his pepperoni tutu—and pulled out a raw spaghetti noodle. He began to pick his nose with it while humming a distorted version of the circus theme song.

"I'm-a beautiful," Mario whispered to himself, crossing his eyes until he saw double.

Unbeknownst to the exasperated crew, this scene was not just being witnessed by them. In the ripples of the multiverse, across the shimmering screens of interdimensional observers, a very different reaction was taking place.

In a pocket dimension far removed from the Mushroom Kingdom, a group of figures huddled around a massive, magical viewing orb.

"Look at him," a voice whispered, full of genuine awe. "The way he defies the laws of physics and common sense. It’s... it’s breathtaking."

"He’s so brave," another voice added, sounding suspiciously like a high-ranking anime swordswoman. "He doesn't care what the world thinks of him. He just wants his pasta. Such purity of heart."

Back in the castle, Mario had moved on from his nose-picking to trying to fit his entire head into a nearby tuba. The muffled sounds of "Mama-f**king-mia!" echoed through the brass instrument.

"That’s it," SMG4 muttered, pulling out his phone. "I’m calling a plumber to fix the floor and a priest to exorcise whatever demon is making you do this."

"I'm-a stuck!" Mario’s voice sounded like it was coming from a deep cave. "SMG4, help! The shiny gold man is eating my ears!"

"Good! Let him finish the job!" SMG4 yelled.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble. It wasn't the usual "Mario fell over" tremble, but a rhythmic, thumping vibration that shook the very foundations of the castle. The chandeliers rattled, and the oil on the stairs began to ripple.

"Is that... an earthquake?" Tari asked, looking around in a panic.

"In the Mushroom Kingdom? Unlikely," Meggy said, stepping into a defensive stance. "Bob, did you set off explosives again?"

Bob, who had been hiding in the corner trying to steal the silverware, looked up. "Hey, don't pin this on me. I haven't even reached the good stuff yet."

The thumping grew louder. It was the sound of thousands of feet marching in unison. Below the sound of the footsteps, there was a low hum—a chant that sounded like a choir of angels mixed with a stadium full of sports fans.

"Mario... Mario... Mario..."

The plumber managed to pop his head out of the tuba, his face red and his mustache slightly bent. "Ooh, I hear my name! Maybe it’s the pizza delivery guy!"

"Mario, no pizza guy sounds like an invading army," Saiko said, gripping her hammer.

The massive, reinforced oak doors of the castle foyer didn't just open; they exploded inward, the hinges snapping like toothpicks. A cloud of dust and splinters filled the air, and for a moment, silence reigned.

Then, the silhouettes appeared.

Leading the charge was a tall, elegant woman with flowing hair and a dress that seemed to be made of starlight. Beside her was a girl with a giant scythe, and behind them was a literal sea of women from every corner of the gaming and anime worlds. There were princesses from distant lands, warriors from dystopian futures, and magical girls from floating islands.

They all had one thing in common: they were wearing "Team Mario" t-shirts.

The crew stood frozen. SMG4’s phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the oily floor.

"What... what is happening?" Meggy stammered, her jaw hitting the floor.

The woman in the lead stepped forward, her eyes locked onto Mario, who was still wearing his pepperoni tutu and holding the tuba. She fell to one knee, bowing her head in deep reverence.

"O, Great Red One," she proclaimed, her voice echoing through the hall. "We have traveled across the stars and through the folds of time to find you."

Mario blinked. He looked at the woman, then at the tuba, then at the massive crowd of girls who were now sobbing with joy at the sight of him. "Uh... do you have-a any snacks?"

A collective "Awww!" swept through the crowd like a tidal wave.

"He’s so relatable!" a girl in the back shouted, clutching a Mario plushie.

"His hunger is a metaphor for the emptiness of the human soul!" another cried, wiping tears from her eyes.

SMG4 stepped forward, his face twitching. "Excuse me? Who are you people? And why are you invading my castle to talk to this... this idiot?"

The woman in the lead stood up, her expression turning cold as she looked at SMG4. "Idiot? You dare call the Paragon of Chaos an idiot? You, who treat him with such disdain, while he provides the multiverse with the purest form of entertainment known to existence?"

"Entertainment?" SMG4 shrieked. "He just rubbed olive oil on my stairs and tried to eat a tuba!"

"Exactly!" a girl with cat ears shouted from the crowd. "It’s performance art! It’s a rebellion against the constraints of logic!"

Mario, sensing he was the center of attention, decided to lean into it. He struck a pose—which mostly involved him sticking his butt out and giving a thumbs up while his tongue hung out.

The crowd erupted. Flashbulbs went off as hundreds of girls began taking pictures.

"Mario! Over here! Do the 'stinky leg'!"

"Mario, sign my copy of 'Cooking with Fire'!"

"Mario, please tell me the meaning of life!"

Mario puffed out his chest. "The meaning of life is... spaghetti. And sometimes... a little bit of cheese."

The crowd gasped. Some fainted. Others began scribbling the words down into notebooks as if they were the Ten Commandments.

"This can't be happening," Meggy whispered, leaning against the wall for support. "They like him? They actually like him?"

"They don't just like him, Meggy," Tari said, her eyes wide as she scanned the crowd. "They’ve formed a cult. Look at those banners!"

High above the crowd, a massive silk banner was unfurled. It depicted Mario sitting on a throne made of pizza boxes, wearing a crown made of sausages. Below it, in gold lettering, were the words: *THE STUPID ONE SHALL LEAD US.*

"We have come to take him to his rightful place," the leader said, turning back to Mario. "To a world where he will be pampered with all the pasta he can eat, and where no one will ever tell him 'no' or ask him to 'act normal' again."

Mario’s eyes turned into giant hearts. "All the pasta? Even the ones with the tiny little meatballs?"

"Especially those," she promised, reaching out a hand.

"Wait, wait, wait!" SMG4 jumped between them, waving his arms frantically. "You can’t just take him! He’s... he’s part of the show! He’s my best friend! And also, he’s technically a biohazard!"

"You don't deserve him," the girl with the scythe said, stepping forward with a menacing glare. "You yell at him. You make him do chores. You try to make him 'smart.' You’re a monster."

"I am not a monster! I’m a content creator!" SMG4 argued.

The crowd began to hiss. The sound was deafening.

Mario looked at SMG4, then at the sea of adoring fans, and then at a plate of spaghetti that one of the girls had magically produced from a picnic basket.

"Sorry, SMG4," Mario said, his voice unusually solemn. He took a giant bite of the pasta, sauce splashing onto his pepperoni tutu. "The people have spoken. Mario is a superstar now."

He hopped off the stairs, sliding on the oil and performing a perfect 360-degree spin before landing on his feet in front of the leader. The crowd went wild.

"He’s so graceful!" someone screamed.

"He fell on his face three times during that spin!" Saiko yelled, but her voice was drowned out by the cheers.

As the army of girls began to surround Mario, hoisting him up onto their shoulders like a conquering hero, the plumber looked back at his stunned friends.

"Don't worry, guys," Mario shouted over the roar of the fans. "I'll send you a postcard! Or a half-eaten burrito! Whichever I find first!"

"Mario, get back here!" SMG4 chased after them, but he was quickly blocked by a wall of girls holding "I Heart Mario" signs.

"Back off, hater!" one of them yelled, poking him with a foam finger.

The massive procession began to move out of the castle, the sound of their chanting filling the air. "Mario! Mario! Mario!"

The crew stood in the wreckage of the foyer, staring at the empty doorway. The silence that followed was heavy and surreal.

"So..." Bob said, breaking the quiet. "Does this mean I get his room? Because I really need a place to store my illegal fireworks."

"Shut up, Bob," Meggy and Saiko said in unison.

SMG4 looked at the oily stairs, the broken vase, and the discarded tuba. He slowly sat down on the bottom step, burying his face in his hands.

"He’s gone," SMG4 whispered. "The most annoying man in the world just got kidnapped by a multiversal fanclub of super-babes."

"I give it twenty minutes," Saiko said, crossing her arms.

"Twenty minutes until what?" Tari asked.

"Until they realize that 'pure chaos' also means he’s going to set their world on fire because he thought the sun looked like a giant orange," Saiko replied.

As if on cue, a distant explosion echoed from the horizon, followed by the faint, muffled sound of Mario screaming, "I'M-A FLAMING MARIO! YAHOOOOO!"

SMG4 sighed, standing up and grabbing a mop. "I’ll go get the van. Meggy, start looking for interdimensional tracking spells. Tari, see if you can find out which universe has the highest concentration of spaghetti."

"Why?" Meggy asked. "I thought you were glad he was gone."

SMG4 looked at the empty castle, which felt strangely hollow without the sound of Mario’s stupidity. "Because... who else is going to ruin my life in such a specific, irritating way? Besides, if he stays with them, he’ll be a god in a week, and I don't think the multiverse can handle a religion based on ravioli."

"Fair point," Meggy said, heading for the door.

Outside, the trail of pepperoni slices led the way into the unknown. The era of Mario the Meatball Magnet had begun, and the Mushroom Kingdom would never be the same.