Epic

The sun shone brightly over the Mushroom Kingdom, illuminating the sleek, modern architecture of SMG4’s new castle. Inside, the atmosphere was considerably less serene. The air was filled with the smell of scorched upholstery, the sound of a kazoo being played through a nose, and the rhythmic *thud-thud-thud* of a grown man bouncing off the walls like a caffeinated pinball.

Mario was currently in the middle of what he called "The Great Spaghetti Pilgrimage," which mostly involved him crawling through the vents while screaming about marinara sauce. He tumbled out of a ceiling grate, landing face-first onto the expensive mahogany table where SMG4 was trying to edit his latest video.

"Mario! Get off the workspace!" SMG4 yelled, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He shoved the plumber, who slid across the polished wood like a greasy seal.

"But SMG4, the voices in my head told me there was a hidden ravioli stash in the ventilation system," Mario replied, his eyes spinning in opposite directions. He stood up, shaking himself off and accidentally slapping Meggy in the face with a stray noodle that had been stuck to his overalls.

Meggy wiped the sauce from her cheek, her eye twitching. "Mario, we’ve been over this. We’re trying to have a serious meeting about the castle’s security. You’ve already broken three windows and the fridge door is missing."

"I needed it for a shield," Mario explained solemnly, picking his nose. "The penguins are coming, Meggy. They see all. They know all."

Tari sighed, clutching her meta-runner arm. "Maybe we should just let him go outside? The fresh air might... stabilize him?"

"He’ll just try to eat a tree or pick a fight with a cloud," Saiko muttered, leaning against the wall with her hammer resting on her shoulder. "He’s been extra obnoxious today. It’s like his stupidity levels are over nine thousand."

Mario suddenly stripped off his shirt, revealing a physique that could only be described as 'perfectly spherical,' and began to perform a majestic interpretive dance that involved a lot of slapping his own belly. The sound echoed through the hall—a wet, rhythmic slapping that made Bob cover his eye sockets.

"Holy shit, my ears are bleeding and I don't even have ears," Bob remarked.

Suddenly, a strange vibration shook the castle floors. It wasn't the usual rumble of a Bowser attack or a stray Bob-omb. It was a rhythmic, high-pitched thrumming, accompanied by the sound of hundreds of footsteps approaching the main gates.

"What now?" SMG4 groaned, walking toward the large stained-glass windows. "If this is another lawsuit, I’m jumping into the moat."

He peered outside and froze. His jaw dropped so low it practically hit the floorboards. "Uh, guys? We have a situation."

The rest of the crew crowded around the window. Outside the castle, a literal sea of people had gathered. But these weren't Toads or Koopas. They were girls—hundreds of them, hailing from every corner of the multiverse. There were anime swordswomen, magical girls with glowing wands, armored warriors from sci-fi shooters, and even a few recognizable faces from popular indie games.

They weren't carrying pitchforks or torches. They were carrying "I Heart Mario" signs, plushies of the red plumber, and cameras.

"Is that... a fanclub?" Meggy asked, bewildered.

"Why are they all looking at the door like they’re waiting for a rockstar?" Tari wondered.

Before anyone could answer, the massive front doors of the castle burst open. The sheer force of the crowd pushing inward was like a tidal wave. The crew scrambled back as a stampede of colorful hair and sparkling eyes flooded the foyer.

In the center of the room, Mario was still mid-dance, currently balancing a bowl of spaghetti on his head while trying to lick his own elbow. He looked up, a string of drool hanging from his lip.

"Oh, hello," Mario said. "Do you have any snacks?"

The silence that followed was heavy, but only for a second. Then, a collective, deafening squeal erupted from the crowd.

"He’s even more beautiful in person!" a girl in a sailor uniform cried out, clutching her cheeks.

"Look at that form! That grace!" shouted a warrior princess, pointing at Mario’s wobbling belly. "Such raw, uninhibited masculine energy!"

The SMG4 crew stood in a stunned line, watching as the girls swarmed around Mario. They didn't tackle him or hurt him; they just stood in a respectful, yet intensely thirsty, circle, snapping photos and swooning.

"Wait, wait, wait!" SMG4 pushed his way to the front, waving his arms. "You’re here for *him*? Mario? The guy who once tried to marry a literal pile of trash?"

A girl with cat ears looked at SMG4 with pure disdain. "You just don't get it. In a world of over-complicated heroes and brooding protagonists, Mario is... pure. He is chaos incarnate. He is the ultimate subversion of expectations."

"He just ate a moth," Saiko pointed out, gesturing to Mario, who was indeed chewing on something fuzzy with a look of intense concentration.

"So brave!" the crowd gasped in unison.

Mario, realizing he had an audience, immediately turned his stupidity up to maximum volume. He realized that these people weren't here to yell at him for breaking things; they were here to celebrate his idiocy. He grabbed a nearby vase, put it on his foot, and started hopping around while singing a song that consisted entirely of the word 'pingas.'

"Oh my god, he’s so deep," whispered a girl from a high-fantasy RPG. "The vase represents the burden of the crown, and the hopping is his refusal to be grounded by societal norms."

"No, he just likes the way the porcelain feels on his toes!" Meggy yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. "He’s not deep! He’s a moron!"

The fans ignored her. One girl stepped forward, offering Mario a golden plate piled high with five-star restaurant-quality spaghetti. "Please, Great One. Accept this humble offering."

Mario’s eyes turned into giant hearts. He dived face-first into the plate, inhaling the pasta like a vacuum cleaner. Sauce sprayed everywhere, coating the front row of his admirers. Instead of being disgusted, they looked like they had just been blessed by holy water.

"I will never wash this dress again," one girl whispered, staring at a red smudge on her sleeve with religious fervor.

Bob walked up to Mario, looking at the crowd of adoring women. "Hey, ladies, you know who’s actually the star here? The one with the sexy rags and the voice of an angel? It’s me, Bo—"

"Move it, trash bag!" a girl shouted, shoving Bob aside so she could get a better angle of Mario trying to fit three meatballs in his nostrils at once.

"Ow, my ovaries," another fan sighed as Mario accidentally fell backward and did a somersault into a trash can.

SMG4 rubbed his temples. "This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Or a very specific glitch in the YouTube algorithm."

"It’s kind of impressive, actually," Tari said, watching as Mario started giving 'autographs' by dipping his hand in ink and slapping it onto people’s foreheads. "He’s found his target demographic."

"His target demographic is people with no survival instincts!" Saiko growled.

As the afternoon wore on, the castle transformed into a chaotic shrine to the red plumber. The girls had set up a perimeter, ensuring Mario had everything he needed. When he mentioned he was thirsty, ten different girls offered him various energy drinks, sodas, and one very suspicious-looking potion. Mario, being Mario, mixed them all together in a bucket and drank the whole thing.

He immediately turned bright purple and began to float three feet off the ground.

"He’s ascending!" the crowd cheered.

"He’s having a heart attack!" Meggy screamed, reaching for her phone to call an ambulance.

"Leave him be, orange girl!" a girl in gothic armor commanded, blocking Meggy’s path. "He is communicating with the pasta gods. Do not interrupt the ritual."

Mario started spinning in mid-air, emitting a sound like a dying lawnmower. "I can see the fourth dimension! It looks like... it looks like a giant ravioli!"

The fans began to chant his name. "MAR-I-O! MAR-I-O! MAR-I-O!"

The SMG4 crew retreated to the kitchen, leaning against the counter in a state of total defeat. The sound of the chanting echoed through the halls, punctuated by the occasional sound of Mario breaking something expensive.

"So, what do we do?" Tari asked softly. "We can't have five hundred girls living in the lobby forever."

"I don't know," SMG4 said, staring blankly at a wall. "If we kick them out, they might riot. And honestly? Mario is actually distracted. He hasn't touched my computer in three hours."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Meggy asked. "He’s being validated! Do you know how much worse he’s going to be tomorrow? He thinks he’s a god now!"

As if on cue, Mario’s voice boomed from the foyer. "Citizens! From this day forward, the moon shall be renamed... The Big Meatball!"

A roar of approval followed.

"See?" Meggy sighed.

Suddenly, the doors to the kitchen swung open. Mario walked in, followed by a trail of sparkles and at least fifty girls who were hanging onto his every word. He looked at his friends, his face covered in ink, sauce, and a look of supreme confidence.

"Hello, peasants," Mario said, his voice dropping an octave in a failed attempt to sound regal. "Mario has decided that the castle needs more... pizzazz. My fans have agreed to help me replace all the floor tiles with pepperoni."

"Mario, no!" SMG4 stood up. "That’s a health hazard! And it’ll attract rats!"

"The rats shall be my knights!" Mario declared, pointing a breadstick at SMG4.

One of the fans, a girl with a giant mechanical hammer, stepped forward. "Is this man bothering you, Lord Mario? Shall I remove him from your presence?"

SMG4 paled. "Wait, let’s not do anything hasty."

Mario looked at SMG4, then at the girl, then back at SMG4. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "He did say that my mustache looks like a dead caterpillar earlier."

The girls gasped. The air in the room suddenly turned very cold.

"He said *what*?" the girl with the hammer whispered, her eyes glowing red.

"I was joking! It was a joke!" SMG4 scrambled backward, tripping over a chair.

"Mario, tell them to stop!" Meggy pleaded.

Mario crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. He took a slow, dramatic bite of a raw onion he found in his pocket. "Mario will consider it... if you give me all your secret stashes of food. And let me use the castle’s main screen to watch 'Teletubbies' for twenty-four hours straight."

SMG4 looked at the angry mob of girls, then at the smug, idiotic plumber. He had no choice. The power dynamic of the castle had shifted. The dumbest man in the universe had found his army.

"Fine," SMG4 hissed through gritted teeth. "You win. Just... tell them not to kill me."

Mario turned to his adoring public and gave a thumbs up. "He is forgiven! For now! Come, my children! We must find the legendary Golden Pizza!"

The crowd cheered and followed Mario as he marched out of the kitchen, tripping over his own feet twice on the way out. Each time he fell, the girls praised his 'groundbreaking physical comedy.'

As the sound of the chanting faded into the distance, the kitchen fell silent.

"I hate this timeline," Saiko said, grabbing a bottle of soda and walking away.

"I think it’s kind of sweet," Tari offered, trying to find a silver lining. "He’s finally appreciated for who he is."

"Who he is is a public nuisance with a fanclub of interdimensional warriors," Meggy countered. "We are never going to hear the end of this."

Outside, Mario was being carried on a litter made of discarded pizza boxes, held aloft by several high-ranking anime protagonists. He looked up at the sky, a single tear of joy rolling down his cheek.

"It’s-a me," he whispered to himself. "The king of the idiots."

And as he was carried toward the nearest Italian restaurant, followed by a parade of the most dangerous and beautiful women in the multiverse, Mario knew one thing for certain.

Being stupid was the best career move he had ever made.