Die Historic On The Rainbow Road

Banana peels lay scattered across the battlefield, cast aside carelessly by the desperate fools who thought they could stand in my way, learning only too late that the machine I sat astride would not bring them victory, but only death.

My name is Luigi. My world is fire and blood.

I kicked a red shell out of my path, now rendered harmless after dangerously zipping around the course before it overturned the kart of a less experienced racer. I knelt down and closed the eyes of the mushroom-headed rookie out of respect. This kid had no business being out here in the 150cc Class. The Rainbow Circuit has cut down much harder men.

As I continued to wander through the aftermath of the deadly race, I heard someone cursing me with their last breath. I turned to see my fat Italian brother pinned underneath the dreaded blue shell. There would be no saving him. I grabbed one of the booby trapped item boxes and brought it down on his head, offering him the only mercy I knew. A mercy that the lizard tyrant’s soldiers would not have granted.

There was no time to bury him. I was already behind schedule and I had to make it to Bowser’s Castle for the next race. I shed a single tear for the lives this race, this war, had taken, vowing to keep racing until I had restored order to the once glorious Mushroom Kingdom.

They would see my kart, and they would behold the man who sat upon him as Death. They would know that Hell followed with me. The time for hope had passed long ago, there was no Super Mario Sunshine to be found in this desolate place. Vengeance was the only course left for me to ride, because sometimes when you gaze into the Rainbow Road, the Rainbow Road gazes back.

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Dustin is a comedian, writer, and failed musician.