Cassie

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

This is a very personal fan fiction about the off-beat romance between a Birdo and a Shy Guy. This is my first fan fiction, so please go easy on me. More importantly, enjoy yourself.

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Chapter 1

        Where this is happening right now is in an egg shrine with an over-sized, polka-dotted egg in the middle. I'm sitting in one corner and Birdo's off to the side, her nose cocked and ready to have another abortion if I move. The only other person here is Toad, who's slumped over in a mess of egg shells and dyeing the carpet red.
        Her mouth aimed right at me, Birdo says, "Isn't this exciting? We are about to witness the birth of a new age."
        I can't tell if she's talking to me or aiming at me or both.
        "After all this work," she says, "we might even get a video game to honor us. People will never forget us. Not even your friend Toad."
        In the other corner, Toad's body twitches and smears another coat of red over the carpet. Where we are right now is in a shrine among millions of other shrines an architect copied and pasted and pasted and pasted all over a grid. Outside the shrine, packs and packs of yoshi press their noses against the soundproof glass trying to get a view of the action.
        "We'll have a theme song they play over the ending cinematic. A catchy little jig everybody loves but nobody can play."
        The yoshi outside, they're Birdo's followers. All of them hand-picked and raised by Birdo herself. They listen to everything she says, so when Birdo says none of them are allowed inside the shrine, they wait outside.
        The ground begins to shake. The giant egg in the middle twitches and twitches, sending vibrations throughout the ground.
        "This is it," she says. "This is our big finale."

Chapter 2

        Birdo, I knew before we found the giant egg. Before we knew all the yoshi. Before all of this happened.
        I knew Birdo back when she was still known as Catherine but preferred to be called Cassie.
        To get an idea of when this is, think back to the time before everyone got into sports games and board games. Before everything was about racing cars at 150cc. Winning the Mushroom Cup with a star. The Koopalings. Capes. Raccoon feathers. Becoming a statue to ogle the girls passing by.
        This is back before an over-sized frog with a medallion and a crown became the Barry White of the kingdom of Hyrule—the overnight sensation and musical celebrity. This is back when this fat frog was just another plain ol' tyrant reigning over just another plain ol' agricultural society. Vegetables, vases, pots, they all hailed from this strange land of Subcon.
        You might know him by the name Mamu, but back then, he was just called Wart. Wart in his palace in the sky, past the conveyor belts and pots.
        Cassie and I knew each other from working together in the same portion of Wart's forces. Cassie graduated top of her class for her superior marksmanship with both eggs and fire. When you're the best, they send you to do the most boring jobs.
        Where I met Cassie was in the mess hall during our break. The way it worked, Wart had us in shifts.
        The first thing you'll notice about Cassie is her legs, the way you notice Arnold Schwarzenegger's over-trained arms. Cassie's job was to guard a key inside a room with conveyor belts instead of a floor. Most of Cassie's shift involved running backwards in place. This confused trespassers into thinking she wasn't affected by inertia. The moment that happens, that's when one of Cassie's eggs slam into your face.
        And people wonder why Birdo competed as a speed player in Mario Tennis.
        For me, work meant jumping out of containers the way you see clowns rush out of a buggy on TV. I was one of those shy guys who swarmed out of pots. If you ever had to sit all day inside a room with the guys I knew, you'd avoid them during your breaks too. Try sitting in a room with a couple of the guys and you know just how it smells.
        The first time I meet Cassie, I'm sitting on a mushroom stool with my plastic glass cup of melon juice. Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her turnip-and-scallion salad stomp over.
        "Have you ever realized," Cassie says, "that every time I fire an egg, I'm technically having an abortion?"
        The thought never crossed my mind.
        "That's why I spit fire. When I can."
        Forking a suspicious green onion root, she says, "I'm Catherine, but I prefer to be called Cassie."
        The way she says it, it's not so much an introduction as a boast. I stick a straw into the pigeonhole of a mouth in my mask and sip the juice, its taste diluting from the ice cubes melting. Next to me, Cassie inhales her salad through her nose-mouth hybrid, wiping the dressing off her face with a napkin.
        From then on, Cassie starts eating at my table.
        One day, she's already at my spot and waves me over. Pulling my seat over, she tells me about the yoshi.
        Yoshi come in many different colors, she tells me. It used to be there was only a green one until they found a red one. And a blue one. And a yellow one. Soon, a pink one and a cornflower blue one and purple and aqua and chartreuse and one for every other color that has a name. None of them are ever the same. And each time one is killed, it's simply reborn with the same color in another egg.
        Another thing is, yoshi are recognized by their big noses. Their noses are among the most powerful and sensitive and can distinguish between over a billion scents up to a mile away.
        Cassie says, "The best way to disarm a yoshi is to punch it in the nose."
        I reach into my mask's eye hole to scratch an itch on my nose.
        "What's more," she says, "is that yoshi have a strange digestive system. For nourishment, they have to eat fruit. Otherwise, they lay eggs. The eggs hatch after a while so they have to throw them. When they're thrown, the egg cracks open, exposing the albumen and the yolk inside to the air. Those two, the albumen and the yolk, react violently with the atmosphere and detonate."
        Shooting her eyes upwards in thought for a moment, she adds, "Really, if you think about it, it's just like how some people throw up when they eat the wrong thing. For yoshi, they just have abortions."
        Cassie takes my glass and sips. Her eyes narrow as she mutters something about it being diluted.
        "Also, I hear they're unconditionally faithful to the person who watches them hatch. Even if they weren't before. That's why all those newborn yoshi are ever-so-attached to you right after they hatch. And if there's another yoshi in the same area, they hatch into a one-up mushroom, which can cure anything. Polio, congestive heart failure, swine flu. Even death."
        A couple of flies find the melon juice I'm drinking and I swat them away. Cassie huffs a flame at them, and their roasted corpses fall onto the table. Then she winks at me and leans in.
        This is my cue to lean in.
        "So I've been thinking," she whispers, "when all of this stuff with Wart is over, why don't the two of us go on a journey?" Batting the mascara on her eyes together, Cassie blows me a flirty kiss.
        "Why don't, just the two of us, you know, get together and find all these yoshi. We meet them and punch them in the nose real hard." She clicks her tongue. "Then we hatch them and make them ours.
        "Just imagine a world where we run everything and we can just stop all this kidnapping and fighting. I mean, for crying out loud, the Mushroom Kingdom's sending the princess here to fight Wart. Their princess.
        "We'll have no more wars, no more murder, no more anything. With all the explosive power imaginable, we can have the whole world at our mercy. And we'll become immortal because of all the one-up mushrooms we'll have."
        Winking, Cassie says, "So, you in?"

[YoshiAgent]

This is by far the strangest interpretation of Birdo I have ever read. And the description of Yoshi is so dead on, it's strange.
I like it, keep it up.

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

I'm glad you do, YoshiAgent. Enjoy the next three chapters!

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Chapter 3

        Where we're at is a golf course. Wart has long since had his face stuffed with vegetables. He's now called Mamu and releases hit albums to the charts every year. From Wart, the king of Subcon, to Mamu, the king of hip-hop.
        Cassie's nine-iron swings and her ball lands in some bushes that look like clouds that look like bushes.
        "Caddie," she calls. She means me. I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead before lugging Cassie's assorted clubs across the endless turf.
        As we start walking, Cassie points an overgrown fingernail at cloth wrapped around her waist. She says, "Like my skirt?"
        I think it's okay.
        Cassie tells me she joined Wart's forces because it was the only time she could wear a bow on her head and not be called queer. Now that she's out, she could wear whatever she wanted.
        Cassie rests the face of the nine-iron on her shoulder.
        What we're here for is a golf cart. Past the bushes, a pair of toads are on the green, taking turns trying to sink their balls into the hole, their cart parked just a little further along the way.
        Turning to me, Cassie says, "I think I'll go with my one-wood for this."
        One of the toad gets the ball in and dances, flattening a tiny bump in the green. The other one misses and groans.
        He says, "Carmella, let's just call this one in. I'm dead tired."
        Carmella rolls her shoulders into a shrug.
        The couple begin walking towards their golf cart when Cassie rushes in and swings her one-wood. Swoosh, the mushroom cap soars off Carmella's head.
        "Kyle!" she calls, but Cassie makes a backhand swing, face-to-face. A pool of Carmella's blood begins coloring the putting green red. Carmella struggling, Cassie sits on her and aborts an egg into Carmella's spine.
        This one could have been a Hoohoo University valedictorian.
        Kyle turns around. His face red, as if his own face were hit by a golf club, Kyle takes his cap off and rolls up his sleeves. He begins, "What the f—"
        This is where I knock Kyle out by swinging at his neck with a sand wedge. Only, Kyle ducks and the club hits him in the thigh, turning his skin purple.
        Kyle wails and, my two hands in a firm grasp on the sand wedge—right hand on top—I hack at Kyle again, his neck giving out a crunch. The club snaps in two. This happens when too much moisture gets trapped in your golf club handle.
        Cassie has another abortion into the back of Carmella's ribcage, Carmella swinging and kicking between Cassie's overdeveloped calves. This one could have founded a society to end Koopa Kingdom hunger by collecting mushroom donations.
        "Get in the cart," Cassie orders me. She sprays fire all over the putting green and the two of us speed off the green, off the field, the course, the club property and onto the turnpike.

Chapter 4

        Our first stop is at a little quiet town called New Toadsville. New Toadsville is almost just another ghost town littered across the huge expansion of abandoned mines that someone copied and pasted and pasted and pasted on this part of the continent.
        Imagine all these towns near mountains where crystals and gold are found. Imagine all the families moving in, settling down, getting rich. And then moving on, abandoning their houses, their memories, their old-fashioned dreams.
        After all that, all you have is some barren, dilapidated houses with overgrown lawns. Piranha plants begin to sprout, soaking up the roots and killing anything that gets near. Lantern ghosts and boos and ceiling ghosts begin to appear. Some say they're the family members that didn't want to leave but had to anyway, so they come back after they die.
        New Toadsville isn't one of these towns, but it comes close. Here in New Toadsville, the population is high enough for the paper boy to swing by every day and lob fresh batches of newspapers at cobwebs gathering at the door. Mail carriers still come by with their bags of letters and packages to drop telephone directories at the wooden planks they used to call porches. Otherwise, the only inhabitants of New Toadsville are old women, young runaway couples looking for a quiet spot and tumbleweeds.
        Cassie slams the flat part of her stiletto onto the brake of the cart, making a screeching halt. She pats her skirt and hops out of the cart and twirls around.
        "You stay here and watch the cart," she says. "I'm going to look for gasoline. I won't be long."
        Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her stiletto heels stomp over to a gas station. The smell of shroomcake with a coating of caramel chocolate fills the air and next thing I know, Cassie tosses a garbage bag and a heavy white book onto my lap. She revs up the engine.
        "Stole some stuff from some of the abandoned houses. I figured it'd be nice to have some change of clothing every now and then." She pulls out a red sweater and puts it up to her chest.
        Batting the mascara on her eyes together, Cassie winks and blows me a flirty kiss. "Like it?"
        Now we're back on the turnpike and Cassie nearly hits a tumbleweed. She should be watching the road, but instead, she's watching me stare at the book on my lap.
        "Careful with that," she says. "That's a telephone directory."
        Her mouth aimed right at me, Cassie says, "We're going to need that."

Chapter 5

        We pull in on an empty parking lot after dark next to an abandoned Shroomy's. Shroomy's was a chain that was on its way to the top until a cook accidentally put a poison mushroom in a shroomburger. It only takes one itsy-bitsy accident to collapse an empire. A couple of vegetables to topple a tyranny. One toothpick falling over to waste hours of hard work. One miscalculation is enough to thwart even the most brilliant plan.
        Reaching into the garbage bag, Cassie pulls out a lantern. "I got a few of these from ghosts back at New Toadsville," she says. "What they say about the ghosts there is true." She blows an ember at the lantern.
        The flame flickers as Cassie passes me the lantern.
        What Cassie did was she kicked through the locked door of one of the houses and raided the clothing drawers. She grabbed all the dresses and blouses and skirts and panties and whatever else she could find and put them in a garbage bag she found near the entrance.
        "The last person to live there," she says, "must have been an old lady." She says this because of all the perfume she found in front of the mirror and the expired lubricant in the back of the drawers.
        "She had all this lipstick standing erect all over the counters, their caps off. All of it, dry."
        What happened next, she says, was she started hearing footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs so she took a look. Inside, she saw lantern ghosts spewing out of a pipe the way ants crawl out of a hill.
        A few abortions later, Cassie had enough lanterns for an entire tribe of yoshi.
        Cassie blows an ember at a second lantern. She opens the telephone directory and fingers through a few pages the way you flip through a magazine to find a picture for a friend. She flips back and forth running her overgrown fingernail up and down the page. She stops on the name "Toshi".
        Cassie folds the corner of the page and starts turning the pages again. She stops at "Boshi" and creases the page's corner. Then "Mashi". Then "Ryshi". "Vushi". "Eshi".
        Her mouth bent into a distorted oval and aimed right at me, Cassie winks and says, "Impressive, isn't it? All yoshi have names ending in S-H-I."
        She folds the corner of the page with "Zeeshi". I reach into my mask's eye hole to scratch an itch on my nose. Cassie revs up the engine and twists her head back over her shoulder.
        "Thanks to this book," she says, "our job of making life a piece of cake will be a piece of cake."

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

Chapter 6

        Where we're at is the front of a house owned by a yoshi named Toshi. Cassie stretches her overdeveloped calves and straightens her bow. She reaches into the garbage bag and pulls out a bottle of perfume. This one's labeled "Blackcurrant Blessing", but it smells like blueberries.
        Applying the perfume and passing me the bottle, Cassie tells me that if we keep changing our scent, no yoshi will be able to detect us. I ask her if that's why she smelled like shroomcake, that she was trying on the perfume.
        Blushing, Cassie says, "No, that was the lubricant."
        She drums her overgrown fingernails on the cart's key before pocketing it in her jeans.
        Toshi's doorbell plays the first few bars of Super Mario World's ending twice. The door creaks to reveal a buff, olive-colored yoshi with a greasy blond mullet wig on his head. The yoshi either looks bored or depressed or both.
        Cassie says, "Hello. Are you Toshi?"
        The yoshi nods and opens the door wider to invite us in.
        In the living room, seated in a burgundy leather armchair and crossing her legs, Cassie says, "I'm here to tell you about the fruit store we're opening a town over."
        She taps the bottom rim of her mouth twice. This is my cue.
        I ask Toshi if I can use his bathroom.
        "Go right ahead," Toshi says. "Down the hallway and to the left."
        Cassie's voice droning about how green the limes will be diminishes as I go down the hallway.
        Behind Toshi's bathroom mirror is a set of bottles of eau de toilette boasting the approval of celebrities like Luigi Mario. One smells like freshly mowed lawn after a wet dog rolls around in it. I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead and I pocket all the bottles of cologne. I take a plunger next to the shower.
        Cassie is saying, "Our oranges are hand-picked and raised by ourselves," when I stick the cup of the plunger into Toshi's face, covering his nostrils. I grip the bronze shaft and push up and down, up-down, up-down. Toshi begins a wail but Cassie muffles him with red boyshorts decorated with koopas.
        Toshi's gag reflex kicks in, his feet and hands squirming. The plunger sucking the air out of him one shove at a time. Sucking the boredom out of his life one shove at a time.
        Batting the mascara on her eyes together, Cassie winks and blows Toshi a flirty kiss. Holding his mouth shut, she says, "Don't worry, all this will be over soon."
        She says, "Soon, you'll be part of the world's greatest army. You will be the first casualty, the big first step to a better civilization. Your death will mark the start of a revolution."
        Her koopa-decorated underwear over Toshi's mouth, she says, "You will be the first scoop of flour to that grand piece of cake that'll become our lives."
        I pull the plunger off Toshi's face as Cassie leans over Toshi's head. She says, "This is it, Toshi." Then, she has an abortion over Toshi's face. The impact shatters Toshi's face, red and orange spraying all over his rug.
        This one could be the start of a new age.

Chapter 7

        In Finland, what someone first did when he found a new place to live was set up a sauna. Every Finnish household had a sauna. It was a staple of their society. Here in the sauna, people would cook their meals, take baths and give birth.
        In Finnish, there's a saying that goes, Jos ei viina, terva tai sauna auta, tauti on kuolemaksi, which means "if booze, tar, or the sauna won't help, the illness is fatal".
        As Cassie and I would find out, the yoshi had something like that too. Only they called it an egg shrine. And people wouldn't cook or take baths there. What the egg shrines did do was it provided a place for the yoshi to become reborn or heal their illnesses. If a yoshi died, a friend could go over and hatch his egg. If anyone became sick, there were miracle elixir mushrooms waiting to be harvested.
        The yoshi probably have a saying like the Finnish, too. Their saying is probably "if one-up mushrooms don't help, it's ennui."
        I'm back in the cart putting all the cologne in the garbage bag while Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her Abercrombie & Finch jeans stomp to the shrine.
        In front of Cassie, seven baby yoshi hop in place, their little feet already wearing boots.
        Placing a banana in front of the first yoshi, she says, "You, my dear, shall be called One."
        She places a durian in front of the second yoshi and calls him "Two". The third yoshi, she calls "Three" and presents him a pomegranate. "Four," a peach. "Five" and "Six" get cloudberry and blood orange. "Seven" gets a cranberry.
        Then I realize, for the first time since all of this started, eggs have not meant abortion. For the first time, they aren't weapons. They aren't harvested for their miracle powers.
        We are ending the boring lives of yoshi whose souls are dying one minute at a time from idleness. We are bringing them back to life for a purpose, a reason to live. We are liberating them. And in the process, we're making strides towards world peace. A world where princesses don't have to fight frog tyrants. A world where over-sized turtle kings only have soccer matches and baseball games to lose.
        To the yoshi numbering from one to seven, Cassie says, "I am the resurrection and the life. I am your shepherd and you are my flock."
        She says, "And you shall call me Birdo."

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

Chapter 8

        Where we're headed now is an old farm up north they call The Yoshi Ranch. At The Yoshi Ranch, people come by to see all the yoshi. All the yoshi are here by choice. For a yoshi, you get an endless supply of food and all you have to do is pose for little kids and let them ride you around a bit.
        This is around the time Mamu released the controversial album that reached Beanbean Kingdom's charts. His song featured a riff that Yoshi Fan Club president Boddle claimed came from one of his broadway productions and Boddle threatened to sue.
        This time, I'm the one driving and we're headed up the dirt road to Chuckleby. Cassie turns to me. Her mouth aimed right at me, she runs her overgrown fingernails through Toshi's mullet wig, now purple, and says, "Like it? I washed out the grease and dyed it purple." She flips her hair the way Prince Peasley does it, just without the blinding shine.
        Through the rear view mirror, I see the yoshi trailing behind us with their eggs in miniature containers between them. To visualize this, think of a camel train. Think of all these camels walking in line on a desert path the way they show them in the movies. Now think, instead of camels, you have yoshi. This is a yoshi train.
        By now we have saved 20 yoshi from their boring lives. We have made 20 lives useful.
        If eight yoshi working in shifts can infiltrate a castle and defeat a troubled king, how many yoshi will it take to take over the world?
        Reaching for the rear view mirror, Cassie takes out her tube of mascara and strokes her eyelashes with the wand. Batting the mascara on her eyes together, Cassie blows her reflection a flirty kiss.
        Girls will be girls.
        Snapping the wand back in place, Cassie tells me that's not true. She says you are only what you want to be. And it's only after you know what you want to be that you can be certain about anything you do.
        I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead. I say it's too hot.
        Shooting her eyes upwards at the yoshi train's reflection in the rear view mirror, Cassie says, "But that doesn't mean you can't be useful."
        Some people, she tells me, just need guidance. Some people need a pretty face and a gentle hand to tell you what to do. We all did at some point. For some of us, that person is our mother. All living things are set up this way. When ducks hatch, they follow their mother. Blooper babies trail after mom. Huffin' puffins waddle around with their mommy.
        Sighing, Cassie leans back against her seat. She says, "The way my parents raised me, they wanted me to be a boy. I mean with birdo, it shouldn't really matter, you'd think. The big difference is, birdo who are supposed to be boys can only shoot fire."
        Reaching one hand around her head, Cassie fiddles with the bow in her wig and then straightens it.
        "Catherine is such an ugly name," she says. "And really, when you become the ruler of everything, a name like Cassie is just weird. It's just like how we have the word 'god' for deity, but then some people believe there's a God. The quintessential God, you know?"
        Cassie offers me her hand and I take it. It's warm. She says, "We're almost there."
        Behind me, the sound of 20 freed souls galloping in unison.

Chapter 9

        The smell of cherry cotton candy, hot dogs, Luigi Mario's Italian ice and hay fills the air and the next thing I know, Cassie is spraying me with perfume labeled "Amazy Dayzee Aroma" but smells like crazee dayzees mixed with yoshi spittle.
        Cassie blows me a kiss and tells me to follow her.
        Behind us, our yoshi are swallowing wooden crates. Making eggs, making explosives. The crates hit the bottom of their stomach with a thud.
        Taking my hand, Cassie leads me to the Yoshi Ranch Gift Shoppe, its sign decorated with Old English font. The store owner is sleeping. Inside, Cassie takes me to the book rack and leafs through a few books.
        Outside, the sound of abortions and explosions. The sound of yoshi being slaughtered by yoshi.
        "Take all of them," she tells me, and she hands me an egg-shaped bookbag from off the wall. I slide all the books into the bag.
        Cassie takes a pitchfork off the wall. Extending an overgrown fingernail, she points at a black pea coat. Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her pitchfork creep over to the store owner. Without waking him up, she swipes a keyring from him and then hands me the pitchfork.
        Cassie tells me to wait here.
        I'm standing at the front of the store and I watch the store owner. The store owner is a monty mole, his sunglasses folded on the glass counter in front of him. The monty mole's snoring is clear, so I think maybe the fighting is over.
        In the distance, I hear eggs hatching. Eggs not splattering, but bursting with new life. I hear the cry of baby yoshi, hopping up-down, up-down with their little shoes already on. Cassie feeding and nurturing the babies and giving them names. Calling them dears and precious.
        I watch the monty mole's chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. From this far, his name tag either says "Bob" or "Rob" or both. I feel the wrought iron handle of the pitchfork in my hands. I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead.
        In the distance, Cassie tells her new yoshi that she is their shepherd. That they are her flock. She tells them her name is Birdo and not Cassie.
        Cassie is Catherine but prefers to be called Cassie.
        Bob or Rob stirs. He yawns and twitches.
        The wrought iron handle of the pitchfork feels warm the way Cassie's hand felt.
        Birdo is their resurrection. Birdo is their life. Cassie and her overdeveloped thighs and her Abercrombie & Finch jeans and her cult of yoshi.
        When you're the best, they send you to do the most boring jobs.
        Bob or Rob rises, dazed. He blinks a few times and reaches for his sunglasses. His eyes glaring right at me, Bob or Rob begins, "What in tarna—"
        This is where I pierce Bob or Rob in the chest with a pitchfork. The monty mole and his chair just fall right over. He lands on his side and stains the dirt floor red.
        The smell of gasoline and blood and smoke fill the air.
        All this killing, all this resurrection. Cassie being Catherine who prefers to be called Cassie being Birdo. Bushes that look like clouds that look like bushes. Liberating yoshi. Copy and paste and paste and paste. Start of a new age.
        Cassie drives by with the golf cart and tells me to hop in.

Chapter 10

        Cassie behind the wheel turns to me. She says, "Are you okay?" Cassie's eyes, coated with mascara and concern. A rainbow of yoshi following behind us.
        No, I tell Cassie, not really. We're killing innocent people.
        Cassie tells me I knew this would happen from the start. I knew the risks, the casualties. If you want peace, prepare for war.
        Cassie's eyes reflect disappointment the way a mother's eyes do when she finds out her son isn't anything the way she hoped. When a mother finds out her son wants to become an artist or an actor and not a doctor. When a mommy birdo finds out her baby birdo wants to shoot eggs and not just fire.
        Where we're at now is the front gate of the Yoshi Fan Club. Cassie's wearing pretty red high heels and white leggings, but doesn't ask me if I like them. Instead, she depresses the brake and hops out of the cart.
        "You can wait in the cart if you'd like." Cassie places a few books from the Yoshi Ranch Gift Shoppe onto her seat and heads towards the theater.
        I open a picture book called Yoshi's Story. Pictures of little yoshi throwing eggs at a baby turtle. Yoshi celebrating violence and growing happier each page. In the end, the yoshi save the world from sadness by reclaiming a super happy tree, which grows heart-shaped fruits of super happiness. Fighting a war to find drugs that make peace.
        I flip through the pages of a book called Yoshi of the Rainbow. Cassie's been through this book, the yoshi we have claimed marked with her pink lipstick. All the yoshi are smiling and laughing. By now, more than half of them are ours.
        Are we really doing the world any favors? Are we really saving the yoshi, the world?
        I think about all the yoshi we've killed, the two of us. The way Cassie left Toshi's brains all over his rug. I think about all the yoshi we thought were bored and tired with their lives.
        Cassie comes back with another 30 or so yoshi, her face red and sweaty. All the yoshi are standing behind her, watching her climb onto the cart. Her mouth aimed right at me, Cassie says, "Let's go."
        I think about how we killed the yoshi young and old so we could make them ours. With the world's greatest army at our command, can we really bring world peace? Can we stop murder by committing enough murder?
        I think about Bob or Rob, the first guy I killed all by myself. I think about him lying on the ground, soaking the dirt red.
        Cassie, I say, I'm done. This has gone way too far.
        I reach into my mask's eye hole to wipe away a tear.

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

Chapter 11

        After I leave Cassie, everywhere I go, I hear Birdo's name. Birdo and her accomplice shy guy and her army of yoshi. Birdo. Never Cassie.
        Passing by talking message boxes, I hear "BREAKING NEWS. BIRDO REINCARNATES FAMILY OF YOSHI." I walk away.
        I board the westbound train from Teehee Valley to Hoohoo Village and I overhear two hoohooligans talking.
        One of them says, "I hear a birdo is building an army of yoshi."
        "Not just a birdo," the other says. "Birdo." His eyebrows point towards the ceiling.
        Has the world gone desperate while I wasn't a part of it?
        I get off the train early at Stardust Field and cross the border to Mushroom Kingdom. The two hammer bros. with their jump ropes at customs, they're talking about Cassie, too. Only they call her Birdo.
        With all the explosives in the world, they say, Birdo is going to bring world peace. Birdo is going to end war. Birdo is going to stop murder. Birdo this, Birdo that. Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her army of yoshi.
        I pick up a newspaper in one of the New Toadsvilles littered around the continent and I read the headline, "BIRDO COLLECTION OF YOSHI NARROWING DOWN". Cassie's still out there building her army. The world at her mercy.
        Another headline reads, "PETTY CRIMINAL CROCO KILLED BY GANG OF YOSHI".
        This is like that part of a video game where you enter a kingdom run by an evil tyrant, only nobody in the kingdom knows the tyrant is evil and you get thrown in jail for it. Birdo and her kingdom of the world.
        Down the streets of Mushroom Kingdom and Rose Town, I pass stores decorated with Birdo and yoshi merchandise. Perfume sets approved by Birdo. All of them featuring the same wink and flirty kiss Cassie used to give me. If people become statues to ogle the girls passing by, maybe Cassie became a girl to ogle the statues passing by.
        A cab pulls over and I hop in. My egg bookbag slides into the opposite side of the car. Sitting in the back, I tell the driver to take me to Seaside Town. On the radio, a trumpet blasts a talk show's theme and a voice says, "Welcome to the WTMK talk show."
        The smell of coconut shavings scattered over Boston cream pie fills the air.
        "Tonight," the host says, "our guest is Professor Elvin Gadd, owner of Gadd Science, Inc., inventor of the Game Boy Horror Navigational System and prominent sociologist. Let's give a warm welcome to the professor."
        There's applause and cheering. Then quiet. Outside the cab, bushes drift past, bushes that a gardener copied and pasted and pasted and pasted all over the road.
        We pass by Mole Mountain where yoshi footprints have pounded the ground uneven. Cassie and her golf cart and her army of yoshi must have gone to Yo'ster Isle to kill more yoshi.
        A whiny, senile voice says, "Thanks, John. I've been living here since I was a lad of twenty or so, and I'll tell you: I have not seen a one-world government attempt this ambitious since the Koopakaust. But this time, I think Birdo and her army of yoshi will actu—"
        I tell the driver to change the station. First static and then Mamu's new single plays, saxophone blaring and the frog's deep croaking voice singing about Birdo and the yoshi.
        Eying me through the rear view mirror, the cab driver says, "Can't go five minutes without hearing about Birdo, sir. Worse than swine flu or the economy." The driver lifts his huge electric lime green nose at me and winks.
        What the hell?
        "It's me, 271, sir," he says. "Birdo wants you. She wants you to be part of her new age."
        The cab swerves past Seaside Town. The meter spins. "Don't worry about the meter, sir," 271 says. "Birdo has this all covered. We've been looking all over for you."
        I rattle the handle of the door. The backseat lock doesn't open.
        271 says, "Don't worry. With the piece of cake world we're going to live in, we won't need locks anymore. Just imagine, you and Birdo running the world and its all-singing, all-dancing yoshi cast."
        I tell him to stop the car. I tell him to let me out.
        He snorts. "I only listen to Birdo," he says. "Birdo knows best. Best for me, best for you."
        Laughing, 271 swings his head back to look at me. This is where I go swoosh, my bookbag slamming right into his electric lime green nose. The best way to disarm a yoshi is to punch it in the nose.
        271's unconscious head hits the side window. Throwing him off the side of the road, I take the wheel and speed towards Seaside Town.

Chapter 12

        Past the Moleville Mines, Booster's Tower and Star Hill is Seaside Town. Seaside Town isn't another New Toadsville. Instead, Seaside Town is the coastal resort village of the Mushroom Kingdom. Imagine a town where all the celebrities—Johnny, Prince Mallow, Booster, Nicolas Cage—stop by to leave their footprints and flipperprints in the concrete. Imagine shops that an architect copied and pasted and pasted and pasted together near the coast.
        Where I'm at is the gate to Seaside Town, the cab I'm in parked just outside.
        The cab radio goes, "Paging 271. Paging 271, this is 192, over."
        I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Breathe in, breathe out. The handle on the cab door feels warm the way Cassie's hand felt.
        192 says, "271, did you get him? Over."
        I hold my breath. Cold sweat. Psss. Static.
        "271," 192 says, "we are sending help. Over."
        This is my cue to get out of the cab.
        Scattered all over Seaside Town is a clockwork of yoshi and their radio transmitters. The sound of static and chatter and yoshi calling out numbers fills the air. I pass by the shops and I overhear two moles talking.
        One mole says, "I hear 'em sayin' Birdo's got all 'em yoshi but one, Shaniqua."
        Pulling on the back of her bonnet, the other one says, "Good, 'cause I dun wanna hafta feed 'em kids no more." Shrugging one shoulder, she says, "Six kids."
        Shaniqua looks right at me. She turns to the other mole. "Carl, ain't dat da shy guy?"
        This is where I turn and walk down the alley.
        Behind me, the sound of expensive sneakers pounding the cement and a star containing Queen Bean's over-sized handprints. Carl yells, "Hey, wait up, man! I want ya autograph!"
        This is where I run down the alley. I hear the gallop, gallop of yoshi swarming over the way teenage girls swarm over a used Kleenex dropped by Robert Pattinson.
        Twisting my head over my shoulder, I see a blur of huge periwinkle and hot magenta and pine green and cerulean and dolphin gray noses led by two moles. The yoshi are paging the others with their radio transmitters.
        One of them points at me. "There, with the egg-shaped bookbag!"
        One of them calls over, "Sir, you don't have to run. Birdo wants you to be part of a new age."
        I hop over a fence at the end of the alley. With all the understanding and soothing sympathy possible, one of them cries, "We are not persecuting you for the assault of 271. We are not persecuting you for the assault of 271."
        Static. Psss. He's headed for Shineget Boulevard, one of them says. Corner him off on the other side of the fence. Psss. Roger that, 90. This is 433, over.
        We're I'm hiding is a vase among other vases thrown out over the fence.
        "This is 47," someone says. "We lost him, but he can't be too far. Over." Static. Psss. And the sound of radio static becomes silent.

Chapter 13

        Over in downtown Seaside Town lived a toad who preferred to be called Toad. Toad, I knew before I knew Birdo back when she was still known as Catherine, but preferred to be called Cassie.
        Toad will always be Toad, the quintessential Toad. The way Cassie tries to be Birdo, the quintessential Birdo. But Cassie will always be Cassie.
        Toad was the guy you used to save instead of Princess Toadstool. The guy who would say, "The princess is in another castle." To envision Toad, imagine a mushroom with a face, a vest, pants and two tiny legs. Cassie's legs were overdeveloped, but you could forget Toad even had legs.
        Toad used to tell me Cassie was evil. Cassie had emotional problems. Cassie was just using me. Cassie this, Cassie that. Cassie and her overdeveloped legs.
        Down Shineget Boulevard, after the sound of the yoshi and static fade away, I tap Toad's door once. Toad's tiny stubby arm grips my wrist and pulls me in.
        A news program is playing on Toad's TV. Cassie's still looking for her partner to become immortal and rule the world together. Cassie and her organized yoshi forces. Cassie has found the last egg, but Cassie's still looking for the icing of the piece of cake that will be our lives. Because cake is cake but cake without icing just isn't the same.
        Both legs planted in the cushion of a turquoise armchair, Toad tells me, whoever I am, I'm going to pay for helping Birdo kill off yoshi and take over the world. The way Toad's positioned, he's not so much sitting in the chair as he's using it as a pedestal. Toad says Birdo would never have gotten this far if it weren't for me.
        The smell of vengeance fills the air.
        The reporter clears his throat. He says shy guy all over the world are claiming to be me. Shy guy are telling Cassie, I'm the one you're looking for. Take me. Let's rule the world. Only they call her Birdo.
        Toad pulls out a knife and he says the moment he heard I was near, he was praying that I would go see him. One death to topple the Reich. One murder to kill the republic. A few vegetables to topple a tyranny.
        I say, Toad, drop the knife. I back up against the wall.
        A reporter says Boddle is starting the People for the Ethical Treatment of Yoshi. Boddle is using money from his late brother's soda factory to fund it.
        Toad, it's me. Drop the knife.
        I drop my egg bookbag.
        Cassie being Catherine who prefers to be called Cassie being Birdo.
        Toad's still moving closer. I undo my hood.
        Toshi being yoshi who prefers to be called Toshi being Four.
        Toad, for crying out loud, look.
        I reach into my mask's eye holes and rip off the mask.
        Me being Yoshi who prefers to be shy guy being hunted by everyone.
        Toad's knife hits the floor with a clang, the flickering light of the TV coloring his face red and blue.
        A trumpet plays music from the ending to Super Mario 64. "If you see a shy guy with a blue cloak," the reporter says, "call this number right away."

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

Thank you for the reply, Zyph. I appreciate it. Perhaps you'll find your answers in the next few chapters.

---

Chapter 14

        Toad pours me a cup of melon juice, raising the pitcher the way showoff waiters at fancy restaurants do it. Ice falling in, droplets splash over the table. Toad looks either angry or relieved or both.
        Stroking his chin, elbow on the table, Toad says, "I don't think Birdo knows you're Yoshi."
        No, Cassie doesn't even know the last yoshi is alive. Cassie thinks she's found his egg.
        Which came first, the yoshi or the egg?
        Both of them always existed, the egg giving out elixir mushrooms when the yoshi is alive, the egg giving out the yoshi when not.
        Toad tells me there used to be eight yoshi that found a baby. They needed to take the baby to a stork so the baby could fullfill his destiny of becoming a hero. The yoshi ate one-up mushrooms so they wouldn't die. So they'd live long enough to deliver the baby.
        What would happen with the yoshi if they did get hurt, if they died, was they'd turn up where their egg was. They became reincarnated, but with the same color, the same knowledge, the same goals. Just so they wouldn't have to lose their place, they brought their eggs with them.
        In the end, they defeated the kidnappers and destiny was complete.
        Toad pours himself a shroomshake and sips. Wiping the shroomstache off his face, he says, "Over time, the yoshi started losing lives. On purpose. Life was just too long."
        The yoshi started engaging in what they remembered was most deadly during their journeys. "Yoshi," Toad says, "invented skiing and rock climbing. They started walking on beds of nails and swimming."
        Other species began to notice what the yoshi were doing and copied them. The games had it wrong; the yoshi skied down mountains before any snowmen did.
        I watch the ice dilute my melon juice and for some reason, I'm reminded of Cassie.
        Cassie.
        Toad says, "What about her?"
        All the yoshi out there being used as slaves. Brainwashed. It's all because of Cassie. Cassie and me. Cassie and me wanting to be together.
        A crazy couple, ignoring the world around them. Thinking they own everything.
        It's only after you know what you are that you can be certain about anything you do.
        Toad, I say, we have to stop Cassie. But there's something we should take care of first.

Chapter 15

        My nose pressed against the inside of the mask and Toad seated next to me, I depress the gas pedal.
        Where we're in is Toad's car. Toad says to look for any sign of an egg shrine.
        We pull in at Belome Temple and knock out a lavender yoshi called 57 and a cyan yoshi called 189. We enter a shrine and hatch the eggs.
        I gain a life. And a life. And a life.
        We drive by Bean Valley Village. Two yoshi call to me, "Sir" before Toad smashes his tennis racket into their cadet blue and maroon noses.
        One-up. Two-up. Three-up. Four-up.
        Toad tells me he's hoping this will give him enough training to be in the next Smash tryouts. I tell him, fat chance.
        We navigate Kero Sewers. A gang of three yoshi run at me and I bludgeon their noses with a Microsoft Comfort Keyboard 3000. I don't remember their numbers, but they were all prime.
        An indigo arm grabs me into a lock, but Toad saves me using the black leather cover of a Gideons International Bible.
        I offer Toad a one-up mushroom, but he refuses. Brushing sweat off his forehead, he says, "I'm only here for the exercise."
        We stop at the Glitzville Fresh Juice Bar to get some drinks.
        Wiping the shroomstache off his face, Toad says, "Let's go."
        We land at Oho Oasis. Hit some yoshi, gain some lives. A crowd starts to follow us.
        We run through Forest of Illusion. I bounce off wigglers without touching the ground. Toad asks me, "What the hell are you doing?"
        I tell him this used to work.
        We stop at Flower Fields. Wearing flower wigs, we ambush some yoshi. My lives are increasing one mushroom at a time. The crowd behind us, different species all gathered together. Could this be the crowd cheering me on to stop Cassie?
        United we stand. Life after life. Yoshi after yoshi.
        We fly to Gelato Beach and stop by the refreshment stand when the crowd catches up. A woman's voice yells, "There he is!"
        Pulling out a pen, I scribble on a napkin and I say, okay, fine, here's my autog—
        The woman wearing a pink mushroom cap says, "There's the shy guy who killed my daughter!"
        Stepping forward, a man says, "And my son!"
        Pointing a finger at me, the pink mushroom woman says, "My baby Carmella was pregnant!"
        Three identical monty moles walk up to me and chorus, "You killed my uncle!" One of them calls him "Rob", the other "Bob". The third just spits at my boots.
        The crowd begins chanting curses and accusations, all incoherent. He's a killer. An arsonist. Robbed our store. Stole my lubricant. Only store we had. Burned down my golf course. Toad's his accomplice. All of my lipstick. Birdo won't let villains like him live. Took my panties.
        I reach into my eye hole to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Turning to me, Toad says, "What the hell is going on now?"
        Two large pianta in police uniforms walk up to us. Placing handcuffs on me and Toad, one of them tells us we're under arrest for the alleged murder of Carmella Amanita and Kyle Agaricus.
        The smell of indignation and burning torches fills the air.

Chapter 16

        Where we're at now is the Delfino Plaza police station. The fan's on the ceiling, spinning and spinning, blowing warm air at us.
        Pacing back and forth, one of the pianta says, "We're letting you off easy on this one."
        All accounts, he says.
        The other pianta enters with a metal tray, a straw and two glasses of water.
        In between gulps, Toad says, "Thanks, officer." I stick the straw into the pigeonhole of a mouth in my mask and sip the liquid.
        The smell of watermelon slices mixed with strawberry shortcake fills the air.
        The pianta says, "Don't worry about it."
        Turning to me, he says, "And don't worry about 271, either, sir."
        Cassie and her overdeveloped legs and her cult of yoshi.
        Psss. Static. The pianta lifts a radio transmitter to his mouth. "Yeah, this is 578. We got him. And his Toad friend. Over."
        I get up, but the room's spinning. The air feels warm the way Cassie's hand felt.
        Taking off the disguise, 578 says, "Don't worry, sir. When you and Birdo turn this world into a piece of cake, we won't need drugs. Just imagine, sir, you and Birdo running the world and its all-singing, all-dancing yoshi cast."
        The best way to disarm a yoshi is to punch it in the nose.
        "You've put up quite a chase, sir," 578 says. "Birdo's got the last egg and she wants you to see it hatch with her. She wants you to witness the birth of a new age."
        I raise my hand, but it feels weak. Everything is becoming dim. Everything is spinning, the way the fan spins overhead. I reach into my mask's eye hole to feel my forehead.
        578 says, "Thanks for everything, sir. You are making our job of making life a piece of cake a piece of cake."

[Dr. Adrian Crimony, MD]

Chapter 17

        The next thing I know, Toad and I are in an egg shrine with an over-sized, polka-dotted egg in the middle. Cassie's off to the side. She's wearing a black pea coat, pretty red high heels and white leggings.
        Cassie says, "I'm so glad you're back. You have no idea how much I missed you." Batting the mascara on her eyes together, Cassie blows me a flirty kiss.
        Pointing an overgrown fingernail at cloth wrapped around her waist, she asks me if I like her skirt.
        Toad gets up. Dusting off his pants, he says, "Birdo, you're making a big mistake."
        Without a word, Cassie aborts an egg into Toad's chest. He slams into the far corner, his body slumped over in the mess of egg shells and dyeing the carpet red.
        This one could be the beginning of the end.
        Turning to me, Cassie says, "Isn't this exciting? We are about to witness the birth of a new age."
        The Mamu albums hitting and leaving the charts, I still can't tell if she's talking to me or aiming at me or both.
        "After all this work," she says, "we might even get a video game to honor us. People will never forget us. Not even your friend Toad."
        In the other corner, Toad's body twitches and smears another coat of red over the carpet.
        Outside, the shrine, packs and packs of yoshi press their noses against the soundproof glass trying to get a view of the action.
        I recognize 271, who winks at me. And 578. And 433, who chased me down the alley, now making his nose flat against the glass and breathing snot into it. I see the yoshi who used to be Toshi but is now Four and his head wigless and barren.
        "We'll have a theme song they play over the ending cinematic. A catchy little jig everybody loves but nobody can play."
        I see Birdo who used to be Catherine but preferred to be called Cassie.
        Yoshi who prefers to be shy guy who knew Birdo back when she was Cassie and not Birdo.
        The ground begins to shake. The giant egg in the middle twitches and twitches, sending vibrations throughout the ground.
        "This is it," Cassie says.
        Cassie's eyes, coated with mascara and hopeful anticipation. Cassie's not aiming at me.
        Cassie wants to make the world peaceful and beautiful for us to run. Cassie wants to stop having abortions. Cassie and her overdeveloped thighs and her twisted dream.
        "This is our big finale," she says.
        Cassie, I say, I'm sorry.
        Cassie turns to me. Cassie's eyes, coated with mascara and concern.
        I shove Cassie over onto the floor. I grab her nose-mouth hybrid. The nose-mouth hybrid she used to use to inhale her salad and blow me kisses.
        The egg opens and a one-up mushroom comes out. The one-up mushroom glows in the middle of the room. I can't tell if the yoshi are amazed by it or shocked by what I'm doing. Or both.
        Cassie's muffled voice says, "What are you doing? What's going on?" Cassie's eyes, coated with mascara and fear.
        I grip her mouth tighter and twist it. Cassie and her overdeveloped calves struggle and squirm. I reach into my eye hole to wipe the cold sweat off my forehead.
        Breathe in, breathe out.
        I tell her about the yoshi. I tell her that if they get hurt, if they die, they turn up where their egg is. They become reincarnated, but with the same knowledge, the same goals. The same memories. Just so they don't have to lose their place, they bring their eggs with them.
        I tell her I want to start over. The two of us.
        Cassie who is Catherine who preferred to be called Cassie. Cassie who is just Cassie.
        We can't stop murder by committing enough murder.
        Cassie stops squirming. She extends an overgrown fingernail and points to my mask. I guide her hand to it. Her hand, it's warm as ever. My mask falls to the ground beside her.
        The world's not ours to run with our all-singing, all-dancing yoshi cast.
        Cassie's eyes study me. They're calm, peaceful. Her eyelids begin to droop.
        It's only after you know what you are that you can be certain about anything you do.
        All this will be over soon, I tell her, and everything will be okay.
        And then Cassie stops moving.

Chapter 18

        I feed Toad the one-up mushroom, and Toad straightens up. His own blood soaked into the carpet around him, Toad says he was getting worried he was going to die and not be able to participate in the next Smash tryouts.
        Outside, the yoshi are silent. An entire rainbow of yoshi looking right at me.
        A white yoshi begins, "Sir, Birdo—"
        Cassie, I say. Not Birdo.
        "Yes, sir," the yoshi says. "Cassie told us you are our new master if she dies. Even though she's being reincarnated as herself right now. What would you like us to do, sir?"
        I tell them to bring me my golf cart. And go home. And get on with their lives. Make up their own names and get rid of their numbers. I say, just go make the most of your lives. And I tell them I'm not their master anymore.
        Toad walks out of the egg shrine. Turning to me, he says, "What now?" He asks, "What are you going to do now?"
        I say, I have to find Cassie. Cassie's still out there being reincarnated, but with the same knowledge, the same goals. The same memories.
        Somewhere out there, Cassie and her overdeveloped calves and her over-mascaraed eyes and her wink and her flirty kiss and her warm hand.
        Somewhere out there, Cassie is being Cassie. And I have all the lives I need to find her.
        A yoshi returns with the golf cart. Parking it right in front of me, he hops out and says, "Here's your golf cart, sir."
        Eight yoshi working in shifts can infiltrate a castle and defeat a troubled king.
        All yoshi working together can take over the world.
        One yoshi and a golf cart can probably find a reincarnated birdo.
        I hop into the cart and I tell Toad to get in. And the two of us drive off the grass, off the hill and off into the distance.

END

[Shoe]

This was an exciting read, I really enjoyed it. It reminded me of those fan fictions I used to spend hours reading at Lemmy's Land. Something with an interesting, usually dark twist to the Mushroom World. I'll have to give a proper critique of it later, as I'm expected somewhere.

Okay, I'm here, geez!

So, for starters, the story itself never seemed to meander and kept me hooked throughout--there was always something interesting happening that was often explained with clever wordplay that told me a lot about the characters and the action without being too wordy, like when Cassie said, We'll have a theme song they play over the ending cinematic. A catchy little jig everybody loves but nobody can play." and, "She had all this lipstick standing erect all over the counters, their caps off. All of it, dry."

I also liked how you put emphasis on an important idea by repeating it later, yet still writing it so it wasn't read quite the same as it was written the first time. I also thought your ideas were interesting, like how Yoshis could never truly be killed and would just become eggs again.

What excited me most was the twist near the end about who the Shy Guy was, and the story was closed wonderfully and kept me wondering--it's the kind that could welcome a sequel but would be perfectly fine without one, if not better.

But, I still don't know about the word choice of explaining where they were and what was happening as, "We're at this place right now, doing this thing." I still feel that it seemed to break the flow of the plot. Also, I think next time you write a story with "mature" elements like bloody violence and what not, you should give a fair warning. It doesn't bother me, of course, but I'm wondering if someone young might happen upon it and become really disturbed.

All in all, a memorable and exciting read, I'd probably buy a published story of yours.