Mario Not Exactly Sweating About Second Place In A Game That’s Got His Name On It, Buddy

Mario isn’t exactly losing sleep over getting second place in a recent Mario Kart match, because, oh, I don’t know, let me consult the stars real quick, make a few phone calls — maybe because his name is on the fucking box, buddy. Is it called Bowser Kart? Yoshi Kart? Luigi Kart? Let me check my notes.

No. Fuck no. Oh, what’s that? Sorry can you speak up? Also no — it fucking isn’t.

Grow up. Get a grip. My dude Mario certainly has one. You don’t see him waking up in a cold sweat, running the race over in his head. He sleeps like a baby Mario.

Fine, he ran a few seconds behind a mushroom in a vest. Who gives a flying fuck? Does the mushroom own property? Does he license his likeness? Didn’t fucking think so. My man gets paid regardless of who wins. Enjoy your trophy you truffle fuck.

Imagine being you. “Oh I came in first place, I won the Flower Cup, I’m a fucking piece of shit moron who doesn’t have a multi-sport international trademark presence that pays my bills regardless of who wins. I didn’t invest in the future, I just learned how to race slightly better than a guy who, not happy with a full time career in plumbing, got heavy into princess and world-saving and then rounded it off with a multi-decade run of launching hugely profitable businesses. I’m a dumb dumb and I smell like a toilet.”

That’s exactly what you sound like, holding your stupid fucking gold trophy over your shitty little head like you actually won because you learned how to cut a few corners on Shy Guy Falls.

Fuck you.



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Max Barth

Max Barth

comedian, writer (Reductress, The Hard Times, Hard Drive, Slackjaw, Points In Case), Libra moon. All my stuff: