No matter where you’re born, and no matter what you do, existence is costly. That’s why denizens of the Mushroom Kingdom often need to pick up odd jobs -- even in a place where Star Bits often rain down from the sky like candy-flavored manna.
What’s more, everything and everyone is interlinked in Princess Peach’s realm. The Mushroom Kingdom’s main export may be giant turtles that kidnap royalty, but like any other self-sustaining country, it needs retail, services, and, er, “families” that keep everyone shell-deep in black market goods. But picking up a part-time job in Mario’s adopted country isn’t a simple matter of driving down to Walmart.
From running hotels to sitting around on a cloud and holding a fishing pole, here are some of the Mushroom Kingdom’s oddest jobs.
When Mario is needed on a rescue mission, he springs forth with his head up and a raised fist. Luigi, by contrast, doesn’t thrive on adventure, but he has a curious talent for locating and trapping ghosts—even though he risks shaking to pieces while he does his duty. A secret to everyone: Most people believe that Luigi rescues Mario from King Boo because he loves him. Truthfully, Mario neglected to leave his brother grocery money before he was captured, spurring Luigi into action. Maaaaari-o!
Greedy ol’ Wario is a thief, a con man, a slime bucket, and a video game developer. Some witty lobbyists might chortle about how all those descriptors go hand-in-hand. But the microgames that Wario develops for his WarioWare line demonstrate that Mario’s hulking rival is capable of earning an honest living—and since honesty is not a trait the character is known for, we can’t help but tilt our heads at the notion of the big guy making games (even if he does churn them out at hyper-speed to maximize profits).
Incidentally, Wario’s partners produce their own microgames around their regular jobs. Two of his pals include taxi drivers Dribble the dog and Spitz the cat. Dogs and cats driving taxis together! Mass hysteria!
The Mario Kart games raise the question of how the inhabitants of the Mushroom Kingdom act towards one another when they’re not trying to murder each other. Is it like those old Looney Tunes bits wherein Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog exchange greetings while they punch the clock? When Mario is done for the day, does he swipe his time card, look over his shoulder, and praise Lakitu for his aim, perhaps while showing off an eye that was bloodied by a Spiny Egg? Does he then ask Lakitu to preside over his go-kart race, fish racers from water traps, and police the geniuses that don’t know how to drive in the right direction? And does Lakitu glance at his watch, shrug, and mumble something in the affirmative?
Seems like it.
Fans of the Paper Mario role-playing games widely agree that 2004’s Thousand Year Door is the series’ strongest entry. There are many reasons why the game is beloved, but the strongest argument for its hallowed position is that within five minutes of starting Mario’s adventure, players get to witness a mob hit that’s orchestrated by the Pianta Syndicate.
The Pianta race debuted in 2002’s Super Mario Sunshine, where they do little more than wring their fingerless hands and burble about the mess Isle Delphino is in. Thousand Year Door suggests that sometimes even babyfaces gotta break a few legs for milk money, ya know?
In 2009’s Mario & Luigi: Bowser’s Inside Story, The King of the Koopas is given the chance to help the shopkeeper Broque Monsieur collect "blitties”—block shaped kittens. Monsieur presumably has a burning desire to slather the Mushroom Kingdom’s BBS with funny cat captions. Either way, if Bowser successfully herds the blitties, he earns the right to borrow Monsieur’s monstrous dog, Broggy, as a companion. Before you bother asking, no, Bowser never cleans up the dog’s messes. He just stands upwind and cackles.
In the 1994 CD-i travesty titled Hotel Mario, Mario and Luigi need to rescue the Princess from a series of hotels that are under the command of Bowser’s brood. To give the game some credit, hotels are actually a great place for bad guys to set up shop. They’re typically shoddy, anonymous holes-in-the-wall that teeming with vermin and ghosts. Bubbling cauldrons of lava and collapsing bridges have nothing on your average off-ramp Red Roof Inn.
Yoshis already lead a full life with all the eating and singing that they do, but a passel of the kind dinosaurs still find the time to babysit an infant Mario in Yoshi’s Island for the SNES. In fact, they go above and beyond by undertaking a dangerous journey to reunite Mario with his twin brother, What’s-His-Face. If that doesn’t impress you, consider how the Yoshis endure baby Mario’s bat-pitched shrieks with placid smiles whereas any human parent would gouge out their eyes and stuff them into their ears.
The Super Mario Brothers have leapt across bottomless pits, plumbed the depths of the Mushroom Kingdom and countless clogged sinks, tamed dinosaurs, practiced medicine without a license, and confronted their own hostile dreams—but all of that is a basket of kittens compared to their journey through Bowser’s boiling guts. Further study is needed, but doctors believe that shrinking down a couple of plumbers and having them stomp around your large intestine with steel-toed boots is an effective alternative for people who dislike fruits and bran.
Source : ign[dot]com
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