Usually, the skies high above the Koopa Keep were flashing with violent lightning, but today, the day when King Koopa discovered AIM (AOL instant messenger), it was filled with sunshine. “Sire, you’ve been on that thing all day. You never pay attention to me any more. We don’t play dress-up or anything. Maybe we should stop seeing each other.” Kamek waited to see if the utter nonsense would distract him.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll buy you some chocolate on here, and then, we can dance the night away and get my groove thing on.”
Kamek shook his head and walked out of the room. General Jagger (the reject trainee from Jinx’s dojo on Mario RPG) had his head placed against the door on the outside. Newton’s third law (I think) took place when his entire body was slammed against the wall. “Oh, sorry, Jagger. Considering you are a worthless nobody who didn’t go to anything as a youngster but the local koopa juice bar…”
Jagger sat up and rubbed his red nose. “Ok, ok. I get your point. At least I didn’t go to the beauty school and then drop out.”
Before Kamek could say anything, a group of goombas dropped in and started to sing, “Beauty school drop-out….”
“Shut up and get back to work. Ok, that was a mistake, but I’m telling you, if I had had enough money, I would have…eh, where was I? Oh, yes. He is still on that AIM thing, and it is killing our strategy meetings against Mario.”
Jagger put his hand over his mouth and whispered, “Say, all you all do in there is talk about pink-laced things and sewing.”
Suddenly, Kammy came in, apparently still reeling from the former night’s hippie party. “Sorry, guys. I joined the Peace Tribe last night and things got a little wild.”
Kamek stood with one hand on his hips. “That’s no excuse to come in like a drunken mule.”
Kammy pointed at him and giggled, “Hey, you look like a mushroom doing twirls around a carefully placed flower with ten dancing goomba pants of pinto beans.”
Kamek motioned to the nearest guard. “Escort her to her room and make sure she is kept away from all of the castle’s cutlery.”
Meanwhile, oblivious to all reality, Bowser talked with his new AIM buddy: licoricehead123. “Hey, buddy, when am I gonna get to see you in person.”
“Why….how about tomorrow. You live at the Koopa Keep, right?”
Bowser clapped his white-gloved hands. “That would be fantastic.”
“Very well. Ten o’ clock. See you then.”
Bowser pushed away from his computer desk and dragged in Kamek who was scolding Jagger for making fun of his crochet style. “You idiot, I told you to wait in here for me.”
Kamek batted his eyelashes, “Still on for tomorrow night, sweetie?”
Bowser threw Kamek against a wall, not knowing that he was kidding. After all, Bowser had thought, he was pretty cute in a dress. “Once you survive the maiming I’m about to give you, I want you to get a guest room ready, ok. Remember, ok, because I’m not sure what this will do to your memory banks or whatever you call them.”
Kamek managed a “Yes, Sire,” before he was jumped upon.
Meanwhile, back at the Mushroom Kingdom, the entire town was preparing for their bi-quarter-quarter decade Licorice Grand Festival (don’t ask). “Oh, Mario, where are we going to get the licorice for this festival?”
“Toad is the one who usually carries it here on his back under the hot, sweltering sun, but since you have randomly beat him within an inch of his life umpteen times this week…”
Peach brought out her pan, foam forming around her mouth. “Yes, that was so exhilarating. I can hear the loud clunk as…”
Mario reached over and smacked her into unconsciousness. “What are we going to do?”
It was noon of the next day that the castle doors opened. To everyone’s surprise, a troop of licorice sticks marched in, the leader wearing a red cape. The leader saw Bowser and they embraced warmly.
Somewhere in the crowd, a magikoopa let out a shrill scream and scrambled for the curtains.
Bowser turned to the licorice sticks. “I’ll show you to your room.” Then, he turned to an archer. “You, shoot that poor, misguided creature down and send him to my room for further orders.”
If the troop hadn’t have been illiterate, he probably could have responded with more than an animalistic grunt.
It was then that Bowser relayed to them the plan he had thought of earlier. “Thanks to my massive brains, I have come up for a job for ya’ll that would help me. Ok, at the banquet tomorrow, you all will disguise yourselves as licorice sticks and then attack the entire kingdom.”
They all bravely accepted.
The next day, all the licorice was laid out for a feast. Suddenly, the center piece plate opened its top. “Charge, men. Ya never live forever.”
With a quiet hush, the citizens of Mushroom Kingdom applauded the apparent surprise and then pierced each and every licorice stick and then ate them. The only ones left ran away towards the Mushroom Park.
Toad stood up on his crutches. “Ok, may the Licorice Haters Club come to order. Every member here, say aye.”
Kamek, being the only other member, yelled, “Aye!”
Toad came down and said, “Ok, let’s relax….eh, what is that noise.”
Suddenly, a troop of one-hundred licorice sticks were running towards them, their cylinder bodies creating a mass throng of terror. The two members held on to each other. “Mother of Pearrrrrrrllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Fine (I know, I know, I’m a lunatic.)