Chapter Five: Revealing the Mysteries of the Unknown

Kolorado Koopa strode cautiously between the pew asiles in the Great Star Cathedral. There was no sound except the echo of his own footsteps. The hall seemed almost etheral; the light filtered through the stain glass windows of Saint Goombella the martyr seemed to shimmer between hues.

The silence was unnatural. Kolorado saw a single snow white dove roosting among the rafters. Even it seemed to brim with fearful anticipation.

As he saw the bird flinch to take flight, Kolorado dived out of the way of a spray of a shotgun blast. He fell headlong, and pulled himself back to witness Toadofsky closing in on him.

“You were a fool to come here that way, old man,” the mushroomer composer cocked his double barreled shotgun, “A deaf Goomba could have seen you coming a mile away. You should have known better than to show yourself.”

Kolorado glowered, his hands in the air, “I cannot allow The Order to gets its hands on the Apocolypse Cloak. None of you understand how dangerous that relic is. It has to kept out of this war! It will shake this world to its foundation if its power is released!”

“Better in our hands, then. I’d hate to see anyone but me dealing the death stroke to this dung heap of a world.”

“I won’t let you get away with this,” Kolorado hissed venomously, causing Toadosky to burst into a sadistic laugh.

“I will enjoy,” Toadofsky said, relishing the moment, “Writing a ballet about your death.”

There was a deafening bang as a gun was fired, and Toadofsky fell lifelessly to the floor. Kolorado shot a glance all around in the direction of the sound and spotted Popple nestled among the rafters of the cathedral with his sniper rifle pointed at him. Fingering the flashbang bomb in his pocket, Kolaroda hurled it at Popple. Before the rogue could pull the trigger and off Kolorado, the flashbang exploded and blinded Popple temporairly.

The Koopa Archaelogist had no time to react though. As soon as Popple was distracted, the stain glass window exploded as Donkey Kong burst through it in his Mushroom Mafia issued suit. He tumbled through the air and grabbed onto the chandlier with acrobatic ease and dangled from it with his dexterous feet. Dual wielding uzis, with his blaring red tie dangling upside down across his face, he swung and open fired on the cathedral in general.

Wasting no time, the aged explorer upturned a pew to take cover. The bullets richocheted and splintered the aged wood. Popple’s shriek was heard as he fell from the rafters. Kolorado fingered his revolver anxiously, but did not act until at last he heard the click of depleted ammo. Bursting out from under the pew, Kolorado made one carefully aimed shot aimed dead center at the jungle king’s heart.

Silence returned to the Cathedral, but somehow this was much more horrific than the tenseness before the battle. Kolorado stood alone amongst the debris of centuries old archetecture and nodded respectfully to his defeated allies.

Confetti fell from the ceiling and a loud happy fanfare blared.

“KOLORADO… WINS!” Announced the perky narrator. The aged explorer acquired ten coins and this made him happy, because now he was in the lead after having won the Senagouge Shootout mini-game.

They returned to the Cowboy themed party board. Donkey Kong, Popple and Toadofsky each took their turns. They rolled an eight, a two and a five and landed on blue spaces. Kolorado’s turn finally came. He anxiously looked forward on the board. He would need to roll at least a six in order to be the first to get the next star.

He stared fearfully at the block above his head that displayed random numbers far too rapidly for him to predict. What would happen if he rolled a five? Or maybe a three? What about a four? He might get a two instead of six, or maybe even a one! Someone ELSE might get the star first.

Kolorado thought of how horrible it would be for the Apocolyspe Cloak to fall into the wrong hands. Closing his eyes, he prayed to the Stars and jumped.

Rolling a four, he landed on a red space. Three versus one mini game.

The announcer enthusiastically named the next mini-game. “Clown Cake Relay!!”

“Would you like to play a practice round?”

Kolorado gritted his teeth and glared viciously at his opponents, “No.”


“You need to hack into the mainframe.”

“Right after I’m done disabling the system!”

Mouser frantically tapped the keys on his high tech super fast computer.  The screen flashed a lot as Mouser began typing line after line of computer code.  There were a lot of computer code numbers on the screen.  There were more than a hundred.

“I just need to input the data and rewire the detonator sequence!  Whacka, can you hear me-“

The line went dead because it stopped working because somebody shot the wire with their gun.  Mouser turned around and found himself face to face with a nemesis from the past.

“Tayce T.”

“So glad you remembered me,” the elderly Toad cook cackled as she pulled out another gatling gun.  “You thought you had me finished at Pipe Land after I fell in the deadly acid pit, but now I’m back and stronger than ever!”

“Because of you…because of you, Ms. Mowz DIED!”

“That was because she was in the way of Organization Seventeen,” Tayce T. snarled as she shot seven computers in a row.  “No one will stop us from fulfilling the Prophecy and finding the Stairway of Infinity!”

“Don’t you realize where that’ll lead you?!”  Mouser cried as he booted the router server and transferred the code numbers to the mainframe.  “That’ll lead you to INFINITY!”

“I know.”

“This world can’t handle infinity!  You mustn’t lead it to infinity!”

“How about I lead you to where the place you’re going to die is?  Which is RIGHT HERE!”

Tayce T. whipped out four more gatling guns and fired them really fast.  Mouser ducked and also dodged the explosion that occurred afterwards.  He did a double roll down the stairway and ran toward his jet motorcycle.  Tayce T. leaped five feet in the air and shot a rain of eighty two bullets down where Mouser was running.  Eighty one missed, but one hit his hand.


Mouser fell on the ground and held his hand in pain with his other hand.  There was a bullet in it, and it was bleeding.  He winced in pain as Tayce T. approached.

“You and everyone from your kingdom,” Tayce T. began.  “are all the same.  Fools like Diddy Kong kept trying to steal the Dark Artifacts, but he got what he deserved.  He deserved death, so that’s what he got.”

“Koopa Koot…Hookbill the Koopa…you killed them both!”

“Yes, and I would’ve gotten Iggy as well, if it weren’t for YOU and your MEDDLING!”


Mouser pulled out a revolver and shot Tayce T. in the leg.  She stumbled on the ground and Mouser began kicking her in the butt.  Just as he was about to kick her in the butt some more, an explosion rang from above.  Mouser dashed away as lots of rubble fell on top of Tayce T., crushing her body.  Mouser looked up to see a small Goomba girl with an orange bow on her head and also a black cloak.

“Come with me,” Goombaria whispered mysteriously.  “Join Organization Enigma.”


The two walked away and jumped into the ocean.  Then they swam away for a hundred miles.  After they got onto shore, Mouser tripped and chopped his hand off accidentally on a nearby harpoon.


“Here, have this golden hook instead,” Goombaria said.


Back at the Omega Base, a low rumbling could be heard.  Tayce T. sprang out of the rubble, covered in green flames, roaring loudly and waving a demonic sword.


As she began summoning the other eighteen members of Organization Seventeen, she cackled madly.

“Alpha Omega Phase 4…will BEGIN!”


Deep in a dark fortress on Koopa Beach, amidst the darkened, twisted hallways surely designed by a madman stood a series of fishbowls.  Inside the bowls were trained Cheep Cheeps, ready to strike at the slightest disruption.  They were pretty pissed off, partially because they REALLY hated intruders and they weren’t paid very much for the job.

A particularly rugged Cheep Cheep glanced down both ends of his hallway.  All he could see was his fellow guard and few torches doing a poor job of giving light to the grim place. “I got a bad feelin’, mate…” he growled to his fellow guard.  “Somethin’s in the air…”

Suddenly, a shadow seemed to dart across the hall.  The water-bound sentinel blinked three times and quickly looked all around him for signs of a stranger. 

Before he could react, both guards were taken down by a series of seven ninja starts, which was immediately followed by a fiery explosion.

A Shy Guy in ninja uniform dropped from the roof and smirked.  “Pitiful,” he chuckled to himself.  He took out a katana and sliced the wooden door before him into three segments, then kicked off the middle segment and jumped through.

He was in an office.  A crimson carpet extended through the length of the large room leading up to an oak desk.  The walls were lined with the heads of hunted Dino-Rhinos, Bloopers and Pokeys.

“Welcome, Gourmet Guy,” greeted a figure sitting behind the the desk.  “What business brings you to this, my humble abode?”

“Cut the crap,” Gourmet Guy growled.  “You know what I’m here for!”  He pointed his katana forward.  “Hand over the Dark Amulet of Nocturne Shadows and nobody gets hurt.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve already harmed countless innocent guards,” the figure corrected.  “You’ve already made the first move.  Now let’s see if you can face your worst enemies.”

Gourmet Guy gasped as the ghostly figures of his arch-nemesises materialized before him.  “Dammit, the Toy Soldiers!”

The trio of soldiers laughed at him and pointed their guns directly at his head.  Just before they fired, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.  They fired seventeen bullets that found no target.

“You’ve been trained well in your ninjitsu, my friend” the figure laughed.  “But the toy soldiers have been trained to kick ninja ass!”

The toy soldiers immediately turned around to find Gourmet Guy ready with his blade.  The red one threw a ball of darkness, which temporarily blinded the obese Shy Guy.  Before he could regain is composure, a bullet nipped his right shoulder.  His scream echoed through the halls of the fortress as he fell to his knees in submission.

“I’ll give you one more chance to leave quietly, Gourmet Guy” the voice proposed.  “You cannot defeat the Toy Soldiers, there are three of them! And only one of you!”

“Ha… ha ha…” Gourmet Guy started laughing.  “Hahaha! You fail to realize what powers I possess!”

“What do you mean!?” the figure demanded.

Quickly, Gourmet Guy used the ninja power of exorcism to dispose of the Toy Soldiers.  They screamed loudly and the room was filled with an explosion of light.  Gourmet Guy began marching towards the desk with the soldiers melting away behind him.

“You’re clever, Gourmet Guy.  But not clever enough!”

The ninja turned the chair around to find a tape recorder and a note.

Dear Idiot,

     It seems you were too slow this time!  Good luck following the Conspiracy of Darkened Souls to our secret lair in… Marrymore!


                                                                                                  Chuck Quizmo

Gourmet Guy crumpled the note in his hand.  “Those fools… they cannot run… from the prophecy!”  He pulled out a walkie talkie and spoke into it.  “Frogfucious, ready the escape boat.  We’re going to Marrymore!”

With that, he leapt through the stain glass window into the night.

“I’m hungry for cake.”


Smithoshi was anxious.  Not only because the horrible events described in the prophecy were coming to fruition, but because the assignment he’d been asked to perform was very dangerous, maybe even deadly, but probably just really dangerous.

He stood foot-deep in the waters of the Kero Sewers, trying to formulate how he’d go about performing the task ahead.  As the horrible smell of waste and raw sewage made itself more prominent, the Goomba questioned his judgement in places to ponder.

Then he heard footsteps.  They were distant and muffed, and the noise from gushing water was prominent, and it had been a while since he had his ears cleaned, and he was listening to light jazz on his walkman at the moment, but there were definitely footsteps.  They were getting louder.  Agent Smithoshi reckoned this was because the source of the footsteps was getting closer.

Before he could react a figure leapt from a pipe and landed about three feet and seven inches to Agent Smithoshi’s left.  He could hardly believe his eyes.

Before him stood Waluigi, his clothes torn and a golden Viking helmet placed on his head.  In his arms he carried the shell of a Koopaling, the owner of which he could not be sure.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Waluigi scoffed, not looking directly at the intrudee.

“What the heck are you doing here!?” Smithoshi demanded, slightly upset at the sudden disturbance, yet surprised to see Waluigi alive and well.

“None of your business,” said Waluigi.  “What just happened to me… well, it changes everything.”

“What DID happen?” the goomba demanded, taking off his headphones so he could hear better.  “It’s been weeks! You’ve been determined legally dead!”

“Well tell them I’m not,” Waluigi requested.  “I’m not dead, so that’s not right.” He groaned slightly and set down the shell so he could rest because the shell was heavy.  He gripped his elbow.

“You’re hurt,” Smithoshi determined.  “Get some rest, you look like you’ve been in a fight with a bear. And didn’t win.”

“There’s no time, you idiot!” barked Waluigi.  “The prophecy will not wait for us! Time flows as we speak, and my wounds will heal themselves when time becomes plentiful!”

Agent Smithoshi let loose a single tear.  Waluigi was right, whatever he just said.  “Let me help you at least,” he asked.  “I can carry that shell for you!”

“But you’re busy, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I am actually.” Smithoshi forgot that he was on that mission that was very dangerous and not safe.

Waluigi stared into a tunnel.  “Things have changed since our days at the orphanage, Smithoshi.  We’ve both got agendas to stick to, and it’s likely our paths will never cross again.”

“I’ll let everyone know you’re safe.  At least let me do that.”

“No!” Waluigi punched the goomba, who fell backwards into the water.  “Nobody can know! Not yet!”

“But you told me to!” Agent Smithoshi reminded him, spitting out a Cheep Cheep.

Waluigi remembered when he asked him to tell them he was alive.  “Oh yeah, well don’t tell them. They’ll find out in due time.” Waluigi paused.

Smithoshi looked at his distorted, murky reflection in the sewer water.  “Flavio should know, at least-“

“Flavio is dead.”

There was a long silence.  Neither of the two looked directly at each other.  Smithoshi bit his lip, not wanting to think about what Waluigi had just told him.  First Orbulon, and now Flavio…

“I can’t waste anymore time,” Waluigi said, trying not to remember the horrible yet action-packed events that had transpired shortly before and the gruesome task that had been placed before him.  “Smithoshi, it’s… it’s good to see you.” He removed his hand from his elbow, revealing a huge scar that made itself prominent there, a permanent reminder of the mistakes Waluigi had made.  Smithoshi couldn’t find the words, but instead stared at it because it was weird.

Waluigi darted into the tunnel, disappearing in the darkness.  The goomba did not look because it would be sad to him.  He let out a long sigh, opening his mission briefing for the fourth time that day.

“It’s as good a time as any, I suppose…” he decided.  “It’s time to ambush Shy Guy’s Toybox!” With that, he disappeared into a void of green lines.

The shell of Larry Koopa remained floating in the sewage, alone, forgotten and abandoned.

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