Mario the exiled

The heavy oak doors of the Showgrounds castle didn't just close; they slammed with a finality that echoed across the plains of the Mushroom Kingdom. Mario stumbled down the marble steps, his bottom hitting the dirt with a dull thud. His iconic red cap was slightly askew, and for once, his eyes weren’t filled with the spark of chaotic mischief. They were wide, wet, and flickering with a confusion that ran deeper than his usual stupidity.

"And stay out!" SMG4’s voice boomed from behind the threshold. "We’re finally going to have some peace and quiet around here without you blowing up the kitchen every five minutes!"

Mario scrambled to his feet, dusting off his overalls. He reached out a gloved hand, hovering it near the door handle, but stopped. He waited for the punchline. He waited for SMG4 to open the door, laugh, and tell him it was all a prank for a new video. He waited for Bob to make a sarcastic comment or for Meggy to challenge him to a friendly scrap to blow off steam.

The silence that followed was louder than any explosion Mario had ever caused.

Inside the castle foyer, the mood was disturbingly light. SMG4 let out a long, theatrical sigh of relief, leaning his back against the closed door.

"Finally," the meme lord muttered, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Do you guys have any idea how much work it is to fix the walls every time he decides to use a Bob-omb as a toaster?"

"Tell me about it," Saiko said, crossing her arms and leaning against a pillar. "I might actually be able to practice my music without hearing 'Mama Mia' at a hundred decibels in the background."

"My ovaries are finally safe from his stupidity," Bob added, though no one was quite sure what he meant by that.

Tari looked a bit hesitant, her robotic eye twitching slightly. "Um, guys? Don't you think that was a little... harsh? We didn't even give him a reason. We just threw him out."

"He doesn't need a reason, Tari," Meggy said, though she didn't look as confident as she sounded. She was busy adjusting her beanie, avoiding eye contact with the door. "He’s Mario. He’ll find a pipe, eat some trash, and be back to normal in an hour. But for now... we just need a break. A long one."

The group began to disperse, chatting about their newfound freedom. They talked about movie nights without popcorn fights and gaming sessions without the console being eaten. They were a family that had finally decided one member was too much of a burden to carry.

Only one person remained still.

Melony stood near the back of the room, her hand clutching the hilt of the Fierce Deity Sword. Her large, innocent eyes were fixed on the heavy wooden doors. She wasn't laughing. She wasn't relieved. She felt a cold, sinking sensation in her chest that felt remarkably like the day she lost Axol.

She remembered the times Mario had been the only one to stay awake with her. She remembered how, despite his pea-sized brain, he had a way of making everything feel less serious when the world was ending. He was the chaotic heart of their group, and they had just ripped it out because it was too messy.

Melony looked at SMG4, who was busy high-fiving Boopkins. A flash of uncharacteristic anger flickered in her green eyes. She didn't say a word. She never was much for talking when she was upset. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked toward the stairs, her cape billowing behind her.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and orange. Mario hadn't moved far. He was sitting by the edge of the lake, staring at his reflection in the water. He pulled a crumpled, slightly dirty plate of spaghetti from his pocket—his emergency stash—but he didn't eat it. He just looked at it.

"Maybe Mario is too spicy," he whispered to the wind.

He waited for a response, but the wind didn't speak Italian. He stood up slowly, his movements heavy. Usually, Mario would be screaming or throwing a tantrum, but this was different. The way SMG4 had looked at him—not with anger, but with genuine exhaustion and dislike—had pierced through the layers of his thick skull.

He began to walk. He didn't head toward the pipes or the town. He just walked toward the horizon, his red silhouette growing smaller and smaller against the fading light. He didn't look back.

From a high balcony of the castle, Melony watched him go. She gripped the stone railing so hard it began to crack under her divine strength.

"They don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling.

She looked back into the castle, where the sounds of a party were already beginning. Music was playing, and she could hear Bob trying to rap over a beat. They were celebrating his disappearance.

Melony reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, handwritten note Mario had given her months ago. It was mostly covered in tomato sauce stains and drawings of butts, but at the bottom, in shaky handwriting, it said: *You are a good watermelon.*

She closed her eyes, the Deity Mask humming softly on her hip. The others might think they were better off, but Melony knew the truth. Mario wasn't just a nuisance; he was the glue. Without the chaos, there was only a hollow silence disguised as peace.

"I'll get you back, Mario," Melony vowed, her voice turning cold and sharp. "I don't care what they say. I'll bring you home."

She watched until the red speck vanished completely into the dark woods.

The next morning, the castle was eerily quiet. SMG4 woke up and headed to the kitchen, expecting to find a disaster zone. Instead, the counters were sparkling. The fridge was full. There was no smell of burnt rubber or old cheese.

"See?" SMG4 said to himself, pouring a bowl of cereal. "This is great. This is what productivity feels like."

He sat down at the table, but the silence was heavy. He kept glancing at the door, expecting Mario to burst in doing a 360-degree spin while screaming about his pingas. When five minutes passed and the door remained closed, SMG4 felt a strange itch in the back of his brain.

Meggy walked in a moment later, looking like she hadn't slept well. She sat across from him, staring at an empty plate.

"Morning," she said flatly.

"Morning! Great day, right? No explosions," SMG4 said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"Yeah. Great," Meggy replied. She poked at a crumb on the table. "Hey, have you seen Melony? She wasn't in her room this morning."

SMG4 paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "She’s probably just sleeping in a tree somewhere. You know how she is."

"I checked the trees, Four," Meggy said, her brow furrowing. "And I checked the roof. Her sword is gone. Her mask is gone. Even her bed was made."

SMG4 put his spoon down. A small prickle of dread began to climb up his spine. "Maybe she went for a walk?"

At that moment, Boopkins ran into the room, waving a piece of paper. "Guys! Guys! I found a note on the fridge!"

SMG4 snatched the paper from the fish-boy's hand. His eyes scanned the messy scrawl. It wasn't Mario's handwriting; it was neat, elegant, and firm.

*You all forgot what it means to be a friend,* the note read. *I’m going to find the heart of this family. Don't follow me unless you're ready to apologize.*

SMG4 felt the blood drain from his face. "She went after him."

"Well, that's fine, right?" Bob said, swaggering into the room. "She'll just bring the fatass back and we'll be back to square one. I give it two hours."

"You don't get it, Bob," Meggy said, standing up, her chair screeching against the floor. "Melony doesn't just 'go for a walk' when she's like this. Look at the wall."

They all turned to where Melony’s favorite sleeping spot was. Carved deep into the stone, right above the spot where she usually napped, was a single word that sent a chill through the room: *BETRAYAL.*

Meanwhile, miles away in the deep, dark heart of the Whispering Woods, Mario was struggling. He had tried to make a campfire, but since he didn't have his usual "logic," he had simply piled a bunch of wet leaves and sat on them, hoping they would get warm.

"Stupid leaves," Mario grumbled, his stomach growling. "Not even as tasty as the yellow ones."

He curled up into a ball, shivering. The woods were scary at night. There were no bright lights, no memes, and most importantly, no friends to hide behind when a monster showed up. For the first time in his life, Mario felt truly small.

He thought about the look on Meggy's face when she told him to leave. She hadn't even looked him in the eye. That hurt more than the time he fell into a pit of spikes. Spikes healed. The feeling of being unwanted didn't.

"Maybe Mario should just be a hermit," he whispered to a passing ladybug. "I can grow a long beard and live in a trash can. That sounds nice."

A rustle in the bushes made him jump. He scrambled backward, grabbing a nearby stick and holding it like a sword.

"Stay back! Mario has a stick and he’s not afraid to use it on himself by accident!" he yelled.

The bushes parted, and a glow emanated from the shadows. A tall, ethereal figure stepped out. The moonlight caught the white hair and the fierce, glowing markings on her face. Melony didn't look like the sleepy melon girl they all knew. She looked like a goddess of war.

Mario dropped the stick. "Melony? Did you come to kick Mario too? I'm already outside! You can't kick me outside-er!"

Melony’s expression softened instantly. The fierce glow faded from her eyes, replaced by a look of deep sorrow. She stepped forward and, without a word, pulled the pudgy plumber into a tight hug.

Mario froze, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. "Uh... Melony? You’re squishing the emergency ravioli in my pocket."

"I don't care," she whispered into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mario. I'm so sorry."

Mario blinked, his brain slowly processing the situation. "Wait... you're not mad at Mario for eating the last piece of cake three weeks ago?"

"No," she said, pulling back to look at him. She reached out and straightened his cap. "They were wrong to do that to you. All of them."

Mario looked down at his shoes. "SMG4 said I'm a 'liability.' I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a type of pasta that tastes bad."

"It means they've forgotten who you are," Melony said firmly. She took his hand in hers. Her grip was warm and steady. "But I haven't. And I'm not going back to that castle without you."

Mario’s eyes widened. "Really? But... but where will we go? Mario doesn't have a house. I tried to live in a hollow log, but a squirrel kicked me out. He was very rude."

Melony looked toward the mountains in the distance. "We'll go wherever we want. We'll start our own adventures. And when they realize how much they need you... they'll have to earn us back."

Mario felt a spark of his old self returning. A small, goofy grin spread across his face. "Can we go to the land of chocolate? I heard it's real, but SMG4 said I was 'hallucinating from sugar withdrawal.'"

Melony laughed, a genuine, light sound that seemed to chase away the darkness of the woods. "Sure, Mario. We can go to the land of chocolate."

As they began to walk together, Mario skipped a little, his spirits lifted by the simple fact that he wasn't alone. He didn't see the way Melony looked back over her shoulder toward the direction of the Showgrounds.

Her eyes flashed with that divine, dangerous light once more. She loved her friends, but they had broken the most important rule of their group. They had abandoned one of their own.

The SMG4 crew thought they had finally found peace. They didn't realize that they had just lost their heart, and in doing so, they had awakened a very protective goddess.

Back at the castle, the party had died down. The silence they had all craved was now suffocating. SMG4 sat on his computer, trying to script a new video, but the screen remained blank. Usually, he would just wait for Mario to do something stupid and write it down.

He looked at a photo on his desk of the whole gang. Mario was in the middle, making a face and holding a plate of spaghetti.

"It's just for a few days," SMG4 whispered to the empty room. "He’ll be back. He always comes back."

But as the wind howled outside, it sounded an awful lot like a goodbye. And for the first time in ten years, the meme lord felt a cold, biting fear that this time, he had finally pushed his best friend too far.

The red exile had begun, and the goddess was leading the way.