Mario and the Koopa Conspiracy - Martin C. Featherworth (spanish books to read TXT) 📗

to his older brother. Luigi was taller and thinner than Mario, and his mustache was more groomed. Of course, these things weren’t as distinguishable when they were in their cartoon forms as it was when they were on Earth.
“Saw the Starshroom leave. What did you do?” Luigi continued, ignoring his brother’s unhappy tone of voice. Mario didn’t look at his brother.
“I was at the Sea Slide,” he said. “Trying to have a vacation. It didn’t work so well.”
“Oh that’s too bad,” Luigi replied, seeming oblivious to Mario’s intention. He was not oblivious. He didn’t question further; Luigi changed the subject instead. “Hey bro, I was just heading into Toad Town to do a few things. Wanna come?” Mario knew why his brother changed the subject. Something rose up inside of him, causing him to become vexed. Mario turned to look at his upbeat green-clad younger brother.
“No Luigi. You go. You go and have fun without me,” Mario said harshly. “It would probably be safer for you,” Mario mumbled in an almost threatening tone as he walked away. Luigi stood there, frozen in shock as he watched his brother wander away.
Something was wrong for sure. It might have even been life-threatening, in fact. Luigi should go and tell someone. But…what would he tell them? Mario himself didn’t entirely know what had become of him. Luigi had been noticing that his brother had been slipping off into a deep, dark state of depression, and that was the absolute worst for him. Mario becoming depressed was like if a bird locked itself in a cage on purpose and told itself that it could not fly. Only it was much more natural for Mario. Far too natural. Nobody knew it, but Mario’s state of mind wasn’t brought on by what Mario believed it to be. It was something much deeper that he would have to discover for himself.
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Yoshi’s tree shelter house lie at the base of a steep blue mountain. Mario had just come from a green pipe moments ago and now gazed upon it from the top of a small foothill. As Mario made his way down, he inspected the dwelling. The shelter itself was made in the traditional Yoshi way: four trees grew on four corners with branches that intermingled with each other in the center, forming a canopy. The trees were alive and growing, and they even produced a kind of apple that was native to Yoshi’s Island, which is the place most Yoshis originated from. Red apples hung from the tree canopy now; it was almost time for harvest.
Underneath the trees, Yoshi had a nest (which he used as a bed, as most Yoshis did), a few modern kitchen appliances, a small table and places to sit, and a red pipe that led somewhere that Mario still wasn’t certain of. There were also a few blocks (some yellow with question marks, some made of brick, some plain brown), eggs, mushrooms, and coins as well as a few books and other random possessions lying on the leaf-carpeted ground or stuck in between tree branches. This type of home was typical of a non-city-dwelling Yoshi. It was quite charming and inviting, but Mario would not want to live in one himself.
Mario now stood right outside. Yoshi was indeed home. The green dinosaur appeared to be cooking something, as he stood in front of the oven facing away from Mario. There was no way to knock or ring a doorbell, and Mario didn’t feel like announcing his entry either. Yoshi probably already knew he was there anyway. Mario trudged into the dwelling. He plopped himself down at the table and sighed.
“Hello Yoshi,” Mario said, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes.
“Hi Mario,” Yoshi said without turning to look. Yoshi was taller than Mario (at least a foot-and-a-half) as well as the younger Yoshis Mario and his companions rode during their adventures. This Yoshi hadn’t been Mario’s mount in a long time; he no longer wore his red saddle anymore. The three bony plates on the back of Yoshi’s skull used to be bright red, but they had faded to orange over time. After a moment of silence, the dinosaur spoke again. “So why are you upset?” he asked calmly.
“I was just thinking about something,” said Mario. Yoshi pulled out a warm batch of square cookies, checked with chocolate and vanilla dough. He placed them onto a cooling rack near the egg-shaped cookie jar on the counter. Mario sniffed the air hungrily. “Mmm… Those smell good.”
“Yep, and you only get to have two, Mario,” Yoshi declared, seating himself down in front of Mario. “I know how you get around food. You’re not eating the entire batch this time,” Yoshi said, pointing his rounded nose upward a bit. Mario frowned. “So,” Yoshi began. “What was it that you said you were just thinking about?” he questioned. “It obviously must be troubling you enough that you would come and see me on a random weekday at two ‘o clock in the afternoon.” Mario looked down at his hands, a sad smile spreading across his face.
“You’re right. It’s troubling me a lot,” Mario stated. Yoshi looked at him inexpressively.
“Are you going to tell me or not?” Forearm propped upright on the table, Mario rested his forehead in his palm. He gave another sigh.
“It may or may not sound stupid,” he said. Yoshi shook his head.
“If it were stupid, you wouldn’t give it that much thought. Just tell me, Mario.” Mario brought his other palm up to his forehead.
“Well, it’s about Peach,” said Mario. Yoshi closed his eyes and smiled a bit, but Mario took no notice.
“What about her? Are you going all Romeo on her?” Yoshi teased.
“Oh gosh, no! I’m not ‘going all Romeo on her!’ I have a genuine concern!” Mario argued. Yoshi nodded, but Mario’s refutal still hadn’t convinced him otherwise. Yoshi pointed his green finger into the air.
“I think my cookies are probably cool enough now,” he said, standing up. It had been a few minutes. Yoshi picked a cookie up off the cooling rack. “Yep. Would you like some tea, Mario?” asked Yoshi as he took two small plates and cups from a cabinet.
“Yes please,” Mario answered. Yoshi placed two of the warm cookies on both plates and set them down on the table — one for himself, and one for Mario. He placed one of the cups in front of Mario and poured some tea into it from a teapot that had been sitting on the stove. Yoshi poured himself some and sat back down. Mario bit into a cookie at once, washing it down with a gulp of the tea. “Mmm,” Mario moaned contentedly, mid-swallow. “This is exactly why I’m fat,” he mumbled, dipping the cookie in the tea. Yoshi did not engage in the topic.
“So Peach… What’s your ‘concern’ with her?” Yoshi inquired, sipping a bit of tea. Mario shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. He waited until he had chewed and swallowed it before he spoke.
“Well,” he began. “I think…” Mario turned his gaze to the green roof of leaves overhead. “I think that Peach’s kidnappings might not be unplanned,” he said, taking a bite of the other cookie from his plate.
“Is this a conspiracy theory?” Yoshi nibbled a cookie. Mario shrugged.
“Maybe, maybe not. I’m upset about it either way.” He took another drink from his cup. “I’m starting to wonder if Peach knows when Bowser will kidnap her. Maybe she lets herself get kidnapped on purpose.” Yoshi stared off at a tree branch thoughtfully.
“Now why would Princess Peach let Bowser kidnap her on purpose?” he thought out loud.
Raising his white-gloved hands, Mario exclaimed, “I don’t know!” He inhaled and exhaled deeply, attempting to calm himself down. “She could be…on Bowser’s side.” Mario finished off his last cookie and the remainder of his tea.
“That seems like a bit of a stretch,” Yoshi said, taking a drink of tea. “I think you’re a little stressed out.” Mario could hardly contain himself.
“I know I’m stressed out!” cried Mario. “I just tried to take a vacation, and I’m still stressed out!” Mario closed his eyes, putting his hand over his forehead. “I’m depressed, Yoshi. I don’t want to be depressed. I want to be free, Yoshi. I want some help,” he murmured. Yoshi looked back at Mario with a softened gaze.
“I’m no psychiatrist, but yes, I think you are depressed. I also think that your latest ‘conspiracy theory’ might have a lot to do with your current state of mind.” Yoshi ate a bit of his cookie. “You said you tried to take a vacation, but you weren’t able to relax. Of course you weren’t; you’re depressed! You of anyone should know that doing fun things while you’re depressed is like you did nothing at all. Sometimes, it even makes it worse!” Mario now rested his head in his hands as he had done before.
“You’re absolutely right, Yoshi,” Mario whispered. “But…what do I do about it?” he pleaded. Yoshi finished his cookies and drank the rest of his tea.
“Like I said, I’m no psychiatrist. I can’t give you professional answers, but I can give you some advice. I think you should try to figure out what’s making you so depressed and try to make some kind of peace with it. Not that you should just say that it’s all fine, but I think you need to develop a positive outlook. Thinking and saying positive things does make a lot of a difference.” Mario furrowed his brow in thought. He hadn’t considered the reason behind why he had become depressed. As far as he could remember, he had been depressed. It may have even started in his childhood, when he still lived on Earth. It may have had something to do with his father…
Mario’s father. The man that was Mario’s father used to be a kind and gentle-spirited person. But that was a long time ago. Mario and his family had lived in a town in Italy until Luigi was born and Mario was two years old. Then, they had decided to move to the United States so that Mario’s father could be with his brother for their carpentry business. Shortly after they moved, something terrible happened; Mario and Luigi both mysteriously disappeared. After almost a week of panicked searching, the brothers turned up on their parents’ doorstep, safe and sound once again. It all went downhill from there. Mario’s father was becoming more and more distant and mean with every year that passed. Then one night, he entirely lost it. He deliriously rambled on and on about a fantasy world that was in the basement and screamed at his wife for not believing him. He even threw things in rage. Mario was six and Luigi almost five when the boys’ father had to be taken away to get help. From then on, they lived with their still-coping and emotionally damaged mother. And look how they turned out: Mario was depressed and Luigi was afraid of everything. That was Mario’s childhood. Mario stood up.
“Goodbye Yoshi. Thank you for your cookies…and your advice,” said Mario.
“Put your dishes in the sink before you go,” Yoshi told Mario. He obeyed, setting the plate and cup down in the sink by the counter. Mario walked over to the edge of the tree canopy and stood facing outward.
“I’m going to World 5,” he said. Yoshi placed his empty cup and plate in the sink as well and stood by the counter with his green arms crossed.
“Why are you going there?” he asked him. World 5 was the jungle World. It was filled with carnivorous piranha plants and lakes of purple acid that could burn flesh and bones when one hadn’t consumed any