Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s always the rich ones. No matter if they show a mask to the world or not, you can bet your butt no one gets that much power without stomping on someone else. Maybe at first, they don’t like it, maybe at first, they think it’s the only way to survive. Either way, at some point, all that power corrupts. It doesn’t matter who you are.

I’ve known a lot of scumbags in my time, too many to count in this damn city. Was this sick freak any better or worse than them? I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe compared to Bowser or Cackletta or Smithy or whoever, he wasn’t so bad.

Still made him a scumbag though.

Can’t say it surprised me when I saw him draining the life out of some poor sap right in front of my eyes. I had a feeling when fighters of the Glitz Pit were ‘mysteriously disappearing.’ It was all too convenient. It all benefited someone too much.

The new girl, though… she didn’t take it so well.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Goombella screamed, wobbling through the empty stadium, charging blindly onto the stage. The way she wobbled, the way she cried… she was greener than my brother. Although, if she really wanted to be like him, she would have run the other way. She had guts. She had spunk. I liked that.

Not that my brother doesn’t have any of that. He does. He just hasn’t found out how to use them yet.

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?!” Grubba, the wrestling manager for the Glitz Pit shouted. A dark contraption, a hideous black, as course and poisonous as one of my cigars lit up fantastically with golden energy. “I’m takin’ a-uh-an autograph o’ course!”

The yellow Koopa tied to a chair at the center stage tried to scream. Keyword: tried. Poor bastard couldn’t even let so much as a yelp as that machine sucked the life right out of him. His eyes and his mouth all opened wide, wider than a starving Chain Chomp’s, wider than a tortured Boo, but nothing came out.

Damn it. King K. was good people. I liked him. Worst of all, Goombella liked him. That little Goomba girl… she suffered enough, didn’t she? Why’d this have to keep happening to her?

Things like this… This is why I never pressured my brother to come out into the city with me. I don’t know if I could take seeing his heart get broken again and again, seeing his soul get stomped on over and over like Goombella.

“You’re killing him! You’re killing him! Stop it! Stop it!” Goombella tried her best, she really did. But she didn’t know who she was dealing with.

Grubba wasn’t some final boss with a grand scheme to take over the world. No. Grubba wasn’t a grandstanding fool like them. This was a man who got what he wanted and kept quiet about it. Without a word, he socked Goombella right across the face, tossing her to the end of the ring.

“Now hold on a second right now, ya hear?!” Grubba shouted. “I ain’t finished.”

I knew there was nothing I could do for King K. at that moment. It was too late for him. Even if I smashed that machine apart right then and there, like Goombella tried to do, I would have just left that bastard a shell of himself. When the Koopa went limp, when his twitching finally stopped and he was left gray and wrinkled, I figured I’d thank some cruel goddess up there for ending him.

I climbed up to the stage like so many times before. I admit, somewhere, deep inside a messed up part of me, I wanted to hear the scream of that crowd. I wanted to hear, “Great Gonzales!” chanted over and over like a Magikoopa spell. Wanted to hear them support me as I smashed the ‘bad guy’ in their eyes.

Except there was no one in the stadium but me, Goombella, and Grubba.

Truth is, no one on the stage was the bad guy. They were all just people like you or me. People that had a bad life, people that wanted to be cheered, people that wanted to be looked at. They wanted to be seen for their true selves. Yeah, it was all names, masks, and personas, sure, but out on the stage… I learned that’s where your true colors show up. That’s where you find out just who’s really a good guy.

Grubba stood center stage and adjusted his bowtie. It had gone slightly askew after he murdered that guy. “Now then, what’s all the fuss about fellas?”

Even now, even after we saw the whole thing with our own eyes, this guy had the spike balls to act like he’d done nothing wrong. He was so far gone. Clubbas were distant cousins to Spikes, and while those guys were always a bit kooky, they didn’t usually devour the souls of the innocent.

Okay, sure, yeah, Tubba Blubba did the same, fine. Maybe they were related. I don’t know.

“Are-are you insane!?” Goombella said, tears pooling around the bloody bruise at her cheek. Obvious answer. Yes. And not the kind of insane that got cured with therapy and medicine, no. I’ve learned there’s an important difference here on the streets. Only cure for this guy’s problem was the crack of a hammer.

“Now why y’all comin’ in here and sayin’ such cruel things, huh?” Grubba shrugged. His fist was still swollen from where he’d punched Goombella, but behind those dark shades, we had no idea if he actually noticed it or not. “Gonzales, talk some sense into the lady, would ya?”

Predictable. Tried to play it off like nothing happened, then tried to drag me along in it. Sure woulda worked well for him if I went along with his scheme, wouldn’t it? I still remember those tear-filled eyes looking up at me, looking so afraid. Afraid I’d somehow side with him.

And that’s the power that people like Grubba hold. That’s the disgusting crap they can do. They can shrug off some horrible action and rope in another evil maniac that thinks like them and trick people into thinking nothing happened. Like this is how things are meant to be. They’re already committing the worst crimes imaginable, why not add a bit of breaking someone’s spirit, too?

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. People like him… you don’t have to do much to wrong them. He scowled at the silence. Even behind those shades, his eyebrows furrowed so deeply. In his eyes, he was the one under attack here.

“So, y’all think I’m just some sorta murderer, huh?!” Grubba shouted, his bruised hand curling back into fists. “Think I’m any worse than all the other lowlifes out there?! Any worse than you?!”

“You killed King K.!” Goombella screamed.

“I ain’t killed NOBODY,” Grubba shouted back, his voice echoing throughout the empty stadium. He was an announcer. He knew how to get his voice heard. Knew it better than anyone. His voice was the only actual voice heard. People like King K… they were nothing but little whispers under the floorboards compared to him. Grubba’s voice echoed back to him. It was all he heard.

“We-we literally saw you do it!” Goombella argued uselessly. Still so green… What did she hope to accomplish? Did she think he’d change right then and there? See the error of his ways? I used to think that too. Used to hope that.

“Saw me do what, now?” Grubba motioned to his contraption, fueled by a golden Crystal Star. Ugh. Those things were never used for good. “Saw me disappear this fella? Let me ask you again, who did I kill?”

Goombella blinked away some tears. She couldn’t understand. I hoped she’d never understand. I knew where this was going. Seen it too often.

“King K.!” she repeated, the name must have burned her throat.

“Now that’s what I just said!” Grubba let out a hearty guffaw, like someone just told the funniest joke at the dinner table. “NOBODY.”

“How can you say-”

“Shut up for a second, girlie,” Grubba said, his voice drowning hers out. “You wanna know who King K. was? You really wanna know? He was a loser, plain and simple. A nobody. Ain’t you the one who said it yourself?!”

“I-I never said…”

His sneer was disgusting. Really must have thought this was a gotcha! moment. “It’s a Koopa Troopa of a slightly different color. Its abilities are just like any other Koopa. Should be a piece of cake!”

Goombella faltered. It was her words nearly verbatim. She had said it in the heat of a battle on the stage with friends. He twisted her words, he twisted reality to better suit him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like…”

“Y’all said it yerself!” Grubba laughed. “A damn nobody! Plain and simple! No one knew him, no one’s gonna miss him!”

“But, but…”

“So, ya’ll know what? I honored him.” Grubba’s smile was back, that fake mask, faker than a Shy Guy’s. “I honored King K. by absorbing his life force! It’s going to good use! I’m one of the few people that knew the fella! Only you n’ me, girly! Only we knew him! But can y’all guess what now?”

I still didn’t say anything. There wasn’t a point. Let him ramble, let him try to justify himself. Goombella needed to see this. If she really wanted to make the world a better place, if she really wanted to beat the bad guys, she had to see what they were like.

“Now King K. gets to live on! Now when people cheer in my stadium for me, they’ll finally be cheering for him!” A tear actually rolled down past his shades. “Ain’t nobody cheered for King K. before. Now they finally will. Heh. Sort of.”

“You’re sick!”

His smile fell apart. He flicked the tear off his finger with a motion that could only be described as true showmanship. “I tried to talk some sense into y’all. Tried to play nice. You, Gonzales, you’re my up-and-comer! You’re the champion!”

He looked at me finally, realizing there was no chance at converting Goombella. Or maybe he figured she was a waste of time. He didn’t even know why I came to the Glitz Pit in the first place did he? He never did recognize me. I’d heard of the disappearances; I was here to investigate. Grubba put me in the ring under the name, ‘Gonzales’ without a second thought. To him, I was just another potential life-extender or cash-cow. There was no losing on a bet when you rigged the system.

“Why don’t y’all just keep your mouth shut, hm?” Grubba said, that seedy smirk rubbing between his lips again. “Make it worth ya while. You’ll get to stay as permanent champions. Ain’t no one ever dethrone you.” He motioned to that disgusting machine. “Even if they do. They won’t. Understand?”

I shook my head. Just like before, that alone, that was enough to set him off. Just the tiniest amount of disobedience. That was lack of respect in his eyes. To him, we were spitting in his face, treating him like dirt. Where was the justice?! He must have surely thought. This is why I’m in charge! These people ain’t care about nobody but themselves! What about me!? What about my life, huh!?

“I’d think over this offer one more time,” he threatened, waving a finger at us. “Think of the money. Think of the cheering. Think of the power.” He gulped. It was his absolute last ace. In his greed, he would never truly share this, but for the time being, he’d trick us into thinking he would. “Think of the immortality! You’d never die! I’ll even give y’all some of the life force!”

Goombella, bright girl that she was, didn’t even consider it. “Screw your stolen life, screw your ugly stage, screw your grody stadium, and screw YOU!”

That was it. That was the final straw.

“I see there ain’t no talkin’ you out of makin’ a fatal mistake,” Grubba grumbled. The showmanship nearly vanished. “I was wrong about y’all. You ain’t any different from anyone else. You think I’m like them?!”

He spat the word out, spat onto King K.’s corpse. “You know there’s filthy murders out there, gang members, dark witches, queens of darkness! Robots makin’ killing machines! Thieves everywhere y’all look in this disgusting city!”

His voice went quiet. “And you went after me.”

The machine whirred to life behind him. Electricity pulsed in the air. Veins pumped through his neck, his rage all too apparent. “You waste your time goin’ after ME!? What about all the other low-lifes, all the thugs, all the CROOKS out there?! HUH?! WHAT ABOUT THEM? I’M OUT HERE TAKIN’ OUT THE TRASH AND YOU THINK I’M THE BAD GUY?”

His skin glowed. The sag in his arms began to vanish. His stomach lurched inside itself, vanishing like the years never went by. His muscles hardened, and they came back. They weren’t new. These were Grubba’s muscles before age stole them away. He worked hard at them.

There was never a sense that this guy was lazy, never any sense that he didn’t earn what he had. He started at the bottom, just like everyone else, just like me, just like Goombella. Except when he got to the top, he didn’t let anyone else have their turn. He didn’t quietly hop down like we’re all meant to. He fought and smashed and threw everyone off the stage that wasn’t him. He wouldn’t let it go, he wouldn’t let anyone else near the top.

“YOU AIN’T KNOW NOTHIN’ ABOUT ME!” Grubba screamed, towering over us. His hair grew out wildly, youthfully. The spikes at his shell had grown back, as if they’d never dulled and fallen out. “YOU THINK THEY WON’T TRY TO KILL YOU, TOO? YOU THINK THAT NOBODY WOULDN’T KILL YOU IF HE HAD THE CHANCE?!” His massive fingers pointed to King K.’s empty shell. “SCUMBAGS. ALL OF ‘EM.”

Goombella dug her feet into the stage. The tears at her cheeks had dried long ago. She wasn’t afraid of him and neither was I.

“Now look at what y’all are makin’ me do!” Grubba said, slamming his massive arms down onto the stage. The entire stadium shook underneath his will, knocking us both off our feet. “Killin’ my new champion! We coulda been rich!” He wasn’t even finished talking, throwing his enormous fists our way without a hint of remorse.

Luckily, Rawk Hawk had already trained us well in these dirty tricks. His biggest mistake was keeping a ‘scumbag’ like him around for so long. Gave us just the know-how on what to expect. I blocked his fists with the end of my hammer, struggling to keep him off me.

He grinned. “Ah heh heh! You still got some showmanship left in you, Gonzales! I like that!” With his free arm and as many teeth as a smug Chain-Chomp, he socked me right in the nose. “Showmanship’s GOLD in this biz, boy! But we ain’t showin’ off anything to anyone ain’t we? How about I show you some REAL moves! These are the kinda moves that keep you ALIVE not just in the ring, but in the STREETS.”

Goombella took the opportunity to bonk the loudmouth right on the head. He groaned. Musta forgotten about her existence to let that happen.

He didn’t fight much like a wrestler. He fought like someone who had it tough, he fought like me. He didn’t pull punches; he couldn’t afford that. When its lose your life vs theirs, you choose theirs every time. That was something I understood.

So, when he turned around, when he started walking off stage, that’s when I knew Goombella was in trouble. She expected an honorable fight, she expected a champion. She let her feet loosen, let her stance fall apart.

“What is he-”

“MAAAAAAAAAAAAACHO GRUBBA!” he screamed, suddenly barreling at her like plumber with a Power Star. His uppercut landed square in her jaw, mostly because she was a Goomba, and where else was he gonna hit her? Before she even had a chance to fall down from his uppercut, he followed it up with a spike right down into the stage like she was a volleyball.

“HOO-WEE, now that right there!! That felt GOOD. Why have I been lettin’ Rawk Hawk have all the fun, I wonder? Why ain’t I just get back in the ring myself and school all you fools!? AHHHOOOW!”

If he wasn’t gonna fight honorably, then I didn’t either. I smacked that grubby cretin right in the back of his skull, hearing that oh-so-wonderous crack! of metal against scaly bone. That rush of adrenaline… you can’t get that from a bowl of spaghetti. But I saved that meal for someone worthwhile, someone deserving.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!” Grubba grumbled, his hands reaching for the back of his head. Something nearly as gross as him oozed out of the wound. He saw it in his youthful fingers. For a moment, his shades fell, and I saw his eyes widen.

Fear. His immortality was in question.

He pushed up his shades, wiped the blood from his skull, and charged at me. “Hoooh, lemme tell you something’ Gonzales!” I tried to jump to the side, but he caught me in a cheap grapple, his hand squeezing my entire body. “I’m a bettin’ man, ya hear?! That’s how I got where I am today! Fortune’s gonna smile on ME in the end, punk! I’m gonna MAKE her smile if I gotta rip every single one of her teeth out!”

Something crashed behind him, something nearly as important as Grubba. The machine that stole the life out of the other fighters. Goombella bonked it right in it’s extremely obvious weak point. The glass dome with the crystal star.

“YOU!!!” he screamed, pointing his free hand at her. “STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!”

“Make me, Grubby!” Goombella said with a fang filled smirk, tongue out. Goombas might be nothing but walking skulls, but their skulls were tough. Thick as diamond. Goombella had been stomped on her whole life. It’d take more than a few punches to stop her.

“GRUBBA! It’s Grub-UH!” He charged at her, at his machine, his grip on me pretty much forgotten about. Using momentum was always one of my strong suits. With the speed he ran at Goombella, I was able to wiggle out of his grubby fingers and fly off his shoulder and up to the top of the stage.

I learned this one from Rawk Hawk. Apparently Grubba knew it too. His shades fell off his face, his jaw hit the floor, and he tumbled over himself as he saw the entire light system above the stage begin to rattle and shake.

Goombella was smart enough and small enough to get out of there just in time. Grubba was too big, too center-stage, too addicted to the bright lights. So, when I slammed down the iron frame with my hammer, it toppled over easily. It was meant to after all. How else was Rawk Hawk supposed to keep his belt?

Everything fell. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d so desperately clawed for and created for himself fell on top of him and his precious life-stealing machine. The giant screen TV that held nothing but empty static fell off its hinges as well, smashing onto Grubba’s spine, spiky glass and electrical wires digging into his enormous body.

The stage fell apart, and with it Grubba. The lights had gone out, nothing but sparking messes of metal and wires meshed together with a deranged murderer. In a way, he got what he wanted. This stage would be rebuilt, that was one thing for sure. Maybe his blood would stain the floor somewhere, maybe the last of his spittle hit the wall of the Glitz Pit somewhere. Part of him would always remain here, long after he was gone.

Good riddance.