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The Mansion Incident of 2012

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The Mansion Incident of 2012 is a crackfic written by Tabuu. Enjoy.


Introduction

On a grassy hill overlooking the MarioWiki, there was a massive gathering of the city’s residents gathered inside of a massive mansion sitting on the hill. It was around 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly in the sky, occasionally dimmed by a passing cloud. MarioWiki was a bustling metropolis of data junkies gathering information on the video game series and things related to it, and all was good.

There had recently been a conflict in the community, but it seemed that things had settled. In a gesture that Steve, the founder of MarioWiki, hoped would help strengthen the bonds of friendship in his community, he purchased a mansion just outside of the city and invited his users to party within it.

The previous owner of the mansion isn’t important. It was some grumpy asshole whose name rhymed with “Wayoshi”, and they dragged him kicking and screaming out of the place.

Like I said. Not important.

In the entrance hall of the mansion, Steve- in his human form, stood in the back of the room atop a stage, leaning onto a podium. Behind him were assembled a team of people that he had chosen to manage the affairs- a pale man with brown eyes, black hair, black robes, a scythe and a large bottle of vodka; a composed gentleman wearing a naval uniform, with dark hair, red eyes, and a strong glare; and finally, a young man with long, dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes, casual clothes, and an electric guitar over his back.

Tabuu downed another gulp of his vodka, Blocky gave an irritated sigh at his behavior, and Stooben faced forward with his hands in his pockets. He had a light grin on his face, but he was a little nervous- he’d be performing tonight, you see.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Steve spoke into the microphone, calming the cacophony that had risen from the crowd of gathered people. Steve was wearing a black suit. He had red hair, green eyes, and a strong, tall, slim build. His eyes drifted over his audience, making eye contact with a select few- broadcasting a simple message. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.

The crowd, however, was confused. Nobody was quite sure why they had been called here- they hadn’t been told anything, you see. Yesterday, Steve had put out an announcement for everybody to gather at “the mansion on the hill”, stating that attendance wasn’t mandatory. The turnout wasn’t insignificant, but unfortunately, many people had just stayed home, figuring their Steward was just going to make some kind of stupid speech at them.

“You are all here,” Steve said, “Because you are active, hardworking members of the community I created. In light of recent events-”

Tabuu started choking on his alcohol and Blocky slapped his back, forcing the liquid out of Tabuu’s mouth. The reaper gave the man a bitter glare, but nodded and stood at attention, staring forward blandly.

Steve sighed. “In light of recent events, you have demonstrated to me that this community is capable of things that aren’t displays of utter idiocy. Because of this, I wish to reward you- tonight, this mansion is yours. Yes, you’re here for a party.”

There was cheering.

“Shut up,” Steve snarled, “I’m not done.”

They fell silent.

“Tabuu,” the Steward said, “You can take it from here.”

Steve stepped back from the podium, and the drunken reaper took his place.

“H-hello.” he slurred into the microphone.

There was no response.

“T-tonight...” Tabuu hiccuped, “We-we are gathered here to partake in party-like sh-she-shenanigans. I am...I am...what am I again?”

Blocky whispered something into his ear.

“Oh yeah...” Tabuu took a swig of his vodka, “I’m the guy that chose out all the food and drinks and activities you’ll be enjoying tonight. You’re w-welcome, assholes. I’m the party manager.”

“Fuck you!” somebody in the audience shouted.

Tabuu leaned forward, a look of angry comprehension coming onto his drunken face. “Fuck you too!” he called into the mic, pointing into the audience.

There were screamed insults and shouts of outrage blasting at the podium, and the drunken critic returned them in kind, shouting accusations of his opposition’s mothers promiscuity and their blatant homosexuality. This kind of humor may come across as hypocritical on his part, but remember- he’s an asshole, it’s just what he does.

When things seemed to be getting too loud, Blocky grabbed Tabuu’s shoulder and pulled him back.

“Calm down.” Blocky sighed into the microphone.

The chaos continued.

“Calm down.” Blocky repeated, firmly.

The noise died out.

“I will be allowing you to have fun tonight,” Blocky said, shutting his eyes, “But there will be order in this chaos, understand?” Blocky put his fist forward and gave a growl. “Tonight, we are gathered for the sake of fun and fraternization to strengthen the ties of friendship in our community! I will not allow this to be derailed! Do you understand me!?”

There was a murmur of assent in the crowd.

“I can’t hear you!” Blocky shouted, “I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?

The audience screamed their agreement, and Blocky gave a smirk.

He turned his back. “Take it away, Stooben.” he said, walking past the musician.

Stooben tapped his foot on the floor.

The podium was taken beneath the floor via a panel in the floor, leaving a standing microphone in its place.

Massive speakers were on either side of the stage, and Stooben held his guitar in his hands, stepping forward with a grin. From other panels in the floor rose a set of drums and a musical keyboard and a computer on a desk, with two seats accompanying the instruments.

Two people rushed onstage- a fat, somewhat humanoid pig with an orange Santa beard and a hipster hairdo took the drums, and a slim, tall gentleman with tanned skin, blacked-out eyes and a black-and-orange outfit took the keyboards. Necromorph was manning the drums, Stooben was taking center stage, and Steuben- a.k.a. Diving Station- was taking the keyboards.

“Are you ready?” Stooben spoke into the microphone.

There was cheering. Stooben smirked and plucked a string on his guitar, which was amplified by the speakers.

“I can’t hear you!” Stooben shouted.

The crowd screamed.

“Let’s get this party started!” Stooben raised a green guitar pick- the Pick of Destiny- in the air and bought it down, strumming his guitar and kicking into a song.

The party had begun.

The Bar Fight Begins

Young Javelin Noir was jogging across the tiled floor, accompanied by his friend and fellow smartass, Nabber.

“What’re we doing again?” Nabber panted, struggling to keep up with Javelin.

“We’re looking for Tabuu,” Javelin responded, conveniently stating his character’s current motivations, “And we’re going to stop him from doing something stupid.”

“Isn’t that your job!?”

“Not just mine. The more people stopping Tabuu from doing something stupid, the bette-”

Javelin paused.

“Your mother’s a whore!” Tabuu screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at MrConcreteDonkey- or, since using full usernames in user fiction is stupid, MCD- and taking another drink from his bottle of alcohol. MCD was standing a short distance away from him.

MCD looked confused. “...What?”

“Your mother.” Tabuu said, forming an O with his left hand, “Whore.” he finished, jamming the top section of his bottle through the gap. Tabuu was quite obviously drunk off his ass, so MCD wasn’t so easily riled from Tabuu’s accusation.

“Tabuu,” he sighed, “You need to calm down.”

“N-no! I meant it!” Tabuu slurred his words, stumbling forward and falling onto a rug, vodka still in hand, “Your mother is a whore. I have photographic evidence.”

“Where?”

Tabuu pulled himself up before he responded. “In my pants.” he said, pointing at his crotch, “You know, where your mo-”

MCD finally snapped and and pulled back his fist, slamming it into Tabuu’s face and knocking the drunken sysop out cold.

The room fell silent as Tabuu’s bottle spilled across the carpet. Javelin took a look around. "We're in a bar." he noted.

BAR FIGHT!” someone screamed.

And then, there was chaos.

Palkia Starts Wrecking Shit

Ephidel- also known as Palkia47- landed on the roof of the mansion. He was wearing a black suit and a broadsword with a scarlet blade was over his back. He had blue hair and eyes of the same color, with light skin.

Another party.

It was time for him to wreck shit.

The sword blazed with fire and Ephidel swung it downwards, causing an explosion as he fell through the roof, landing inside of a second-floor room filled with people at arcade machines.

“Oh shit, it’s Palkia!”

Ephidel gave a feral roar and ran at PTR, a teenager at a Donkey Kong machine.

PTR screamed and leaped out of the way- but he wasn’t Ephidel’s target anyways. Palkia stabbed his flaming sword through the screen of the arcade cabinet and it exploded.

“Why did you do that!?” PTR demanded.

Ephidel gave a maniacal laugh and kicked the door off its hinges, beginning his charge through the mansion.

PTR was heartbroken.

Anton and Hypnoshenanigans

In the meantime, 3K and Master Crash were hanging out by the pool, watching the people jumping in. They weren’t going to get into any of their shenanigans- they had both decided that it would just be better to sit down and relax.

So they did.

Crash and 3K reclined back in a couple of fold-up chairs beside the pool.

“This is the life.” 3K sighed, stretching and shutting his eyes. 3K being one of the head figures of the community, most of his days saw him swamped with work- but it was his day off, so he could finally relax. Crash, after having done artwork requests from a metric fuckton of people- BUT STILL NOT THE AUTHOR- was quite tired himself, and he was enjoying his relaxation just as much as 3K happened to be.

This, however, was not to be.

“Hey guys.” Anton poked his head out from between the seats.

“What is it, Anton?” Crash groaned.

“The pool.” Anton said, standing and pointing at the water, “You are going to swim.”

“No.” Crash scowled.

Anton removed his glasses. “You are going to swim.

Yes, master.

Crash, fully clothed, leaped into the water.

Upon witnessing this, a bunch of similarly fully-clothed people decided to join him.

This turned out about as well as you would expect.

3K sighed.

“And what’re you going to make me do against my will?” he groaned.

Anton tossed 3K a cane and a top hat.

Magic tricks.” he said flatly.

Anton and 3K switched places.

3K pulled out a deck of cards.

Anton clapped and gave a delighted squeal.

Tabuu and Quizmo Discuss Physics

Tabuu fell through an open door and landed in a hallway just outside of the bar. He had regained consciousness, and with it, most of his sobriety.

He took another swig of his vodka.

Nevermind.

He started walking through the empty hallway. His head was buzzing, and he couldn’t think straight. He was having trouble keeping his feet on flat ground, and he was swaying with every step.

There was somebody standing in the hallway.

A slim man with a black jacket and blue jeans, looking in his direction. Quizmo.

Quizmo and Tabuu hated each other.

With a passion.

Quizmo, however, was just as drunk- if not more so- than Tabuu was.

“Need some help, man?” he slurred.

“Sure.” Tabuu muttered.

Quizmo wrapped Tabuu’s arm around his shoulder and supported the Sysop as he walked.

“You’re a cool guy...” Tabuu mumbled, taking another swig of vodka.

“You too, T-Tabuu...”

“‘ove you, man.”

“D-do you mean it?”

Tabuu drunkenly nodded his head.

He made eye contact with Quizmo.

The world stopped around them.

The sysop pulled his mortal enemy into a bedroom and proceeded to furiously make out with him.

For your sanity, this will not be recorded here.

Legendary Dance-Off

SonicMario was, among other things, somebody that happened to look exactly like Sonic The Hedgehog- and he was wearing Mario’s clothes, complete with the red hat.

He had prodigal speed, could throw fireballs, was quite the comedian...and knew how to dance.

He stepped onto a Dance Dance Revolution pad.

PyroGuy6, a user with an unfortunately unimaginative name, stepped onto the pad beside SonicMario’s.

Pyro and SM scowled at each other.

Back where Pyro came from, he was a break dancer legendary for his ability to defeat every single one of his opponents in a dance-off, including a Michael Jackson bot that had invaded his hometown and threatened to turn them all into dancing zombies.

He defeated Robo-Jackson so soundly that the robot’s head exploded.

SM and Pyro inserted their coins into the machine.

“Are you ready?” SM smirked.

“Are you?” Pyro shot back.

The song started.

Their legs became a blur.

Palkia vs. Blocky

Palkia vs. Blocky


There was an explosion.

Palkia had blasted his way through a wall and into the room of the mansion where Stooben was holding his concert.

THIS SHIT IS GETTING WRECKED!” he boldly declared, holding his flaming sword in the air.

The music stopped.

Ephidel began charging for the stage.

Then he stopped.

“Keep playing, Stooben. I got this.”

A dark-haired man leapt off of the stage and faced Palkia.

They circled each other until they were standing beside opposite sides of the stage.

Ephidel, the legendary party-wrecker, faced down Blocky, the most orderly administrator MarioWiki has ever seen.

They each got into a fighting stance.

Stooben kicked into another song.

Fight music.

Palkia’s blade exploded with flame and he charged at Blocky with his blade held over his head. He swung it downward and Blocky stopped it with his left forearm.

Ephidel’s eyes widened.

Blocky’s eyes literally burst with flame. “I said that this party would be kept in order. I meant it.” Blocky’s right hand exploded with fire and he slammed his fist into Ephidel’s stomach, sending him flying backwards.

Ephidel slid across the tiles but recovered, doing a somersault and leaping to his feet, slashing his sword through the air and releasing a wave of flame at Blocky.

Blocky grabbed a huge wooden crate from beside the stage and held it in front of him.

The fire instantly set it aflame and Blocky gave a roar, throwing the flaming crate at his opponent.

Palkia sliced it in half, and Blocky charged forward.

He attempted to make a punch to Ephidel’s stomach, but Ephidel blocked with his sword and leaped backward.

Blocky made another lunge forward, but this time Ephidel swung for his side- Blocky dodged effortlessly and kneed Ephidel in the stomach.

The rules are sacred. They shall not be violated.

“Fuck the rules!” Ephidel screamed, “I have no money!”

The dueling pair stumbled backward from each other.

Then charged.

Order and tranquility!

Chaos and lack of regard to arcade machines!

Blocky slammed his flaming fist into Ephidel’s chin, giving him an Earth-shattering uppercut that knocked him unconscious and sent him flying skyward.

Ephidel slammed to the floor.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Blocky raised his fist.

He was the victor.

Resolution

Here’s what happened:

Steve declared that MarioWiki would never be having another party, ever.
Tabuu and Quizmo woke up in bed together and never spoke about it again.
Crash was swarmed by people in the pool and deeply traumatized from his experiences.
Stooben, Steuben and Groden enjoyed their concert and went on to have great musical careers.
Anton was greatly entertained by 3K’s magic tricks.
3K was not.
Blocky and Ephidel became best buddies after their incredibly epic showdown.
MCD was assured by Tabuu that his mother was not a whore and that, in fact, Tabuu had never fucked her.
Javelin and Nabber got into their first barfight. And won.
SonicMario soundly defeated Pyro in the dance-off.
PTR found another arcade machine.

And all was well.