The sky above the Mushroomy Kingdom was impossibly blue, the hills were unnaturally round, and bright green pipes rose from the ground for reasons nobody had bothered to explain. Golden blocks floated overhead while angry little mushroom-shaped creatures wandered around in circles, occasionally walking directly into walls. It all looked extremely familiar, although not familiar enough that it would infringe upon anybody’s intellectual property rights. High above the field, a small black drone hovered silently with its red recording light blinking.
Standing beneath it was a short, round man with a thick black mustache, blue overalls, white gloves, brown shoes, and a bright red cap with a crooked white M stitched onto the front. His name was Mareo, and aside from several legally significant differences, he looked similar to somebody else. He bounced on his heels, thrust one fist into the air, and shouted, “It being Mareo time! I am number of one!”
Across from him stood his taller, thinner brother, Louie. He wore nearly identical clothes except for a green shirt and matching cap, and the large L on the front had been sewn on backward. Louie pointed dramatically at Mareo and announced, “I also am number of one! Maybe you become number of two today!” Mareo gasped at the insult, lowered his fists, and prepared for battle.
A shimmer of light appeared near the edge of the field, and Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler materialized behind their usual commentary table. JR slowly removed his cowboy hat and stared at the two competitors while Lawler squinted at them.
“King, I’m not entirely sure who these two gentlemen are supposed to be.”
“I think I know, JR, but I also think saying it out loud might get us sued.”
Mareo charged first, pumping his short legs as quickly as they would carry him, while Louie responded with an equally unimpressive charge of his own. Neither noticed a small rock between them until both tripped over it at nearly the same time, stumbled forward, and smashed their foreheads together before collapsing into the grass.
“Well, that’s one way to start a fight,” JR said.
Mareo climbed back to his feet and accused Louie of performing a “sneak attack,” prompting Louie to insist that Mareo had attacked him at exactly the same time. “You also doing sneak attack same timing! This make you double cheater!” Louie shouted. Mareo responded by slapping him across the face, Louie slapped him back, and within seconds the supposedly epic battle had devolved into two grown men repeatedly smacking each other while arguing about who had cheated first.
JR leaned toward his microphone. “Folks, I’ve called championship matches, cage matches, and some of the most brutal fights imaginable, but I don’t believe I’ve ever called anything quite like this.”
Lawler glanced underneath the table. “Yeah. This is really something.”
A faint electronic chime sounded somewhere near his lap.
Louie finally escaped the slap fight and leapt into the air with one fist raised. “Super high jump attack!” he yelled, rising perhaps eighteen inches before dropping right back down. Mareo simply watched as Louie landed awkwardly on one foot, lost his balance, and fell onto his back.
“Apparently that was a super high jump.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Mareo seized the advantage by running toward one of the floating golden blocks and jumping beneath it. His first attempt missed completely, and so did his second, but on the third try he finally struck the underside hard enough to make a large gold coin pop out. Mareo caught it with both hands and raised it triumphantly over his head.
“Ha-ha! I become wealthy man!”
Louie’s eyes widened. “That money belonging to both brother!”
“No! This my financial success!”
Louie rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Mareo’s waist while Mareo clutched the coin desperately against his chest. The brothers wrestled clumsily across the field until they toppled sideways into one of the green pipes, leaving only four kicking legs sticking out of the top.
“Business is… occurring, King.”
“Sure is.”
Another electronic noise came from beneath the table, followed by a quiet burst of gunfire that definitely had not come from anywhere on the battlefield.
Mareo eventually crawled out first, followed by Louie, who grabbed his lower back and complained that his “spine body” had been damaged. Mareo suggested that he should have purchased insurance, only for Louie to reveal that he had none.
“That unfortunate.”
Louie suddenly reached into the front of his overalls and produced a brightly colored flower. Mareo froze as his brother held it above his head and grinned.
“I having power flower! Now you being finished!”
JR finally showed some interest. “Now hold on! We may finally have something here!”
Louie shoved the flower into his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. Then he waited. Mareo waited with him, JR stared expectantly from the commentary table, and even Lawler briefly glanced away from whatever he was doing.
Nothing happened.
Louie examined his hands. “Flower not working.”
Mareo immediately doubled over laughing. “You buy counterfeit power item!”
Furious, Louie threw the useless stem aside, picked up a small brick, and hurled it at Mareo with everything he had. The brick traveled about six feet before dropping harmlessly into the grass.
JR rubbed his forehead. “King, are you actually still watching this?”
Lawler suddenly straightened up and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Of course I am. Very intense fight.”
A robotic voice from his pocket announced, “Enemy eliminated.”
JR slowly turned toward him.
Lawler avoided eye contact.
Mareo charged again, but this time Louie managed to sidestep him and attempted a spinning kick. Unfortunately, Louie missed completely, spun in a full circle, and fell onto his backside. Mareo tried to capitalize with another jumping attack, overshot Louie entirely, and landed face-first beside him. For the next minute, the brothers rolled around in the grass, grabbed at each other’s hats, and shouted insults involving mushrooms and plumbing.
“I have to tell you, King, this may be the least impressive display of athleticism I’ve ever witnessed.”
Lawler had already taken his phone back out. “Wake me up if somebody wins.”
Eventually, both men spotted another floating block nearby and stopped fighting long enough to stare at it. Mareo pointed toward the box and declared, “Power item belong winner!” before sprinting in its direction. Louie immediately gave chase.
“No! I am obtaining first!”
They reached the block at exactly the same time. Both jumped beneath it, collided in midair, and cracked their heads together with a hollow thud. A large red mushroom popped free, bounced once, and rolled harmlessly away while Mareo and Louie dropped unconscious into the grass.
The field became completely silent.
JR stared at the two motionless competitors. “King, I suppose somebody has to win this thing.”
“Flip a coin.”
Mareo’s hand twitched. He slowly raised one finger into the air.
“It being… victory…”
His arm dropped and he passed out again.
JR sighed. “There you have it, folks. Mareo wins what may be the worst fight we’ve ever called.”
“Great.”
A triumphant voice from Lawler’s phone suddenly shouted, “VICTORY!”
JR looked over at him. “At least somebody accomplished something tonight.”
The drone descended toward Mareo’s unconscious body for several seconds before rising back into the air. The battlefield faded around the commentators, and moments later the drone disappeared through a glowing rift.
Somewhere between worlds, the feed vanished from a large holographic screen hanging above a dimly lit bar. Nobody cheered. Nobody applauded. Several patrons simply stared at the blank screen with expressions ranging from confusion to outright anger.
A huge, pale man dressed in black biker gear slowly rose from his stool, cigar clenched between his teeth and a chain hanging from his belt. He looked toward the man in the baseball cap and glasses sitting near the screen.
“What the fuck was that supposed to be?”
The man immediately raised both hands. “Look, I wanted Mario versus Luigi! But you know how Nintendo is. Those fuckers see one red hat and suddenly seventeen lawyers rappel through your goddamn window.” He pointed toward the now-blank screen. “So we got Mareo and Louie instead. Basically the same thing.”
The biker stared at him.
“No.”
“Well, kinda.”
The biker cracked his knuckles. “You ever use those two pieces of shit again, I’m gonna make you eat that fucking drone.”
“Fair enough.”
The man in the baseball cap turned toward the far end of the bar, where a tall guy in a green tunic and pointed hat stood beside a plastic sword and shield.
“Lank? You can go home. We’re not doing the other fight.”
Lank’s shoulders dropped. “You are serious? I buy whole costume for this.”
“Sorry.”
Lank pulled off his pointed hat and shook his head. “Is bullshit. Very hard finding work these days.” His thick Russian accent became even more obvious as he picked up the plastic sword and headed toward the exit. “Maybe Sega hiring.”
The door slammed behind him.
The man in the baseball cap took another drink of beer and stared at the blank screen.
“Fucking Nintendo.”
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