I'm going to cross post this with Decruited and Smash Cut, but here's the first chapter of Your Main is Trash!

"There is a lot that could be said about you, Mario. You're boring, you have no character, and you're the embodiment of an all-consuming corporate powerhouse bent on financial gain." said Robin to the portly plumber sitting on the other side of his desk.

"That's-a-me! Mario! Wahoo!" exclaimed Mario with a jubilant obliviousness.

"There are moments where it's less about being true to you as a character and more about putting you on things to make money. You're not as bad as, say, Pikachu or something, but still. It's not that there isn't anything good about you, but your goodness has become a tool for others to use for their own devices. And as a culture, I don't think we're fully prepared to explore the implications of the fact that you are a somewhat offensive Italian stereotype." said Robin.

"Mama mia!" exclaimed Mario.

"And yet, I can't bring myself to resent you." admitted Robin. "Maybe there's a part of me that feels like I should since I'm admittedly one of the more obscure characters on the roster. You could say that about most of my fellow anime sword people. But you're just so universally likeable. Seeing you in your element, or even out of your element, it just brings a spike of joy in my heart. I've seen some terrible things, Mario. I've fought wars. I've had to make choices that got people killed. I'd like to hold onto that joy wherever I can find it. I find it in my wife, in my child, in my friends. And, for some reason, I find it in you."

"That's-a-something! Do you want to-a talk about it?" asked Mario.

"Nah, I just wanted to let you know how I felt." replied Robin. "I like letting people know where I stand with them. It cuts out a lot of bullshit."

"Neato! So why-a-did you ask-a me to come-a-here?"

"Due to my experience in managing large groups of weirdos, I was...assigned the job of providing resources to the various Smashers. The powers-that-be figured that they should cover their bases since they're having you fight for their amusement. It could be an HR nightmare."

"Are you-a HR?" asked Mario.

"It's one of the hats I wear. Although I am more of a hood guy." Robin replied.

"And-a-you have some-a-sort of confidentiality with-a-people talking to-a-you?"

"Yes...Mario, is there something wrong?" asked Robin, leaning in concerned.

Mario leaned in as well and lowered his voice.

"I am so out of my fucking depth here." hissed Mario, obnoxious Italian accent dropping into a thick Brooklyn accent. "And I have been out of my depth for a very long time."

"...What." uttered Robin. "Why...do you sound like that?"

"I started doing the Italian voice when I got to the Mushroom Kingdom because I thought I was tripping out, and I haven't found an out. Dealing with Bowser is easy. It's always the same deal with that bozo, no matter how you dress it up. But then shit comes up like demons under ports? I died once and jumped my way out of Hell! I've been to space! I've possessed things! I'm just a plumber from Brooklyn!"

"And don't get me started on this interdimensional shit. I can beat up things I'd never take on before, and now I can cause explosions and fire with my hands. I can't even begin to list how many nightmare we have just casually walking around. That big purple freak that straight-up murdered Samus's parents. That sword person that turns into a dragon, but not all their parts. So they got a dragon mouth on their arm or whatever. And that 'World of Light' shit? Forget about it!"

"Um, actually, the writer hasn't beaten World of Light yet, so if you could avoid spoiling it." interjected Robin.

"I don't gotta spoil shit. All that's important is that giant beam of that obliterated me. I saw some of you fighting back, but what was I supposed to do? Jump on it? People were dying! Only we didn't die! I could feel that golden ooze drip all over me, every time it made a copy! A guy's gotta tag out at some point, and that's where I wanted to. But no, Kirby saved me and kept pushing forward. Only reason I didn't run then was that there was nowhere to run. Also some bullshit: fighting possessed clones of yourself, sometimes with different versions of you own spirit inside of them! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had a different soul when I was playing tennis or made of paper! And what? I was made of paper? And what about that doctor clone of me? It's like my Mama designed me in a tube, only instead of a plumber, doctor!"

"I...I don't know what to tell you, Mario." admitted a flabbergasted Robin.

"Is there at least a way I can go home? Check up on some relatives? Maybe get an actually good slice of pizza for once? I once thought I made it back to New York, but then it turned out to be some crude parody, like the universe was trying to do me a favor. New Donk City. Populated by a bunch of weird mannequin people and my ex-girlfriend. All it did was remind me of how much I've lost. Plus, the pizza was trash."

"I'll...I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"You better." said Mario, and he leaned in so close that his large nose was touching Robin's. "Because I've been faking this for years, and I don't know how much longer I can do it." With this, Mario inhaled sharply and loudly through his nose. The distorted, despite look on his face morphed back into the happy-go-lucky plumber. "Looks-a-like you've got a lot on-a-your plate, Robin! I'll-a-get out of-a-your hair!"

"...Yeah. I do." Robin said, shaking his head.

"Yeah-ho!" With a cartoonish boing, Mario jumped out of his chair and gleefully jogged out of the room.

"This is on me. I thought this would be easy."