Toadsworth's Scheme

This fiction is the property of Toady16/Princess Toady. Any reproduction, whether it is partial or complete, is strictly forbidden. Of course, you may find some kind of inspiration in my work (or not), but please, do not steal it from me.

This story is a parody of The Hunger Games/Battle Royale where people are trapped in an arena and have to kill each other until only one remains. If you enjoy this kind of stories or even write some yourself, please do not take offense to this, its only purpose is to be fun.

1 : A Usual Day in Toadsworth's Life

Toadsworth's day had began rather uneventfully. As always, the old Toad would almost barf at the smell of his own breath upon climbing down his magnificent brown and purple bed, incrusted with a myriad of expensive gemstones, and frown at the sight of a yellowish stain on his covers and undergarments, which heralded his entrance into senility.

"Well, it's not as bad as usual," he noted with a sincere smile as his nostrils picked up the peculiar scent emitted by his covers. "It's a great progress!"

After that, Toadsworth would throw the stained tissues out of his room, through the window, and watch them make a big splash in the castle's moat, chuckling at the expense of Princess Peach's slaves, who shouted a number of expletives, complaining about their ingrate duties and cursing the old attendant under their breath.

"Ha ha ha!" Toadsworth clapped his hands, water droplets almost reaching his bedroom. "That was fun!"

Today, however, Toadsworth had hooted with delight after throwing his blanket out of the window, because one of the servants had been in the process of salvaging a sock which had been forgotten there the day before and she screamed, almost drowning under the old man's bed furniture. Later that day, Toadsworth would learn that the poor girl was confined in bed, unable to stand up without having the urge to puke.

Then, after washing himself and dressing up properly, the attendant of Princess Peach would waddle his way to his fair princess' bedroom and bang on it as if there was no tomorrow, hoping to wake her up, to no avail. He would also remarked with stupefaction the dents located on the door, and would make sure to blame one of his assistants for this blunder – the one he liked the least, of course.

"Toadarion didn't bow before me yesterday," the old mushroom had remembered with a chuckle. "Too bad for him."

To be honest, Toadsworth could not care less for the door to Princess Peach's bedroom, the lady had had her fair share of experience with the thing, and after more than five years on tutoring her that not all doors could be opened by pushing them, everyone had given up on her and settled for replacing them as soon as they were destroyed. However, in the interest of saving money, only the door to Peach's room could be closed, the other ones had been dismantled and hidden in a place the fair maiden would never think to check.

Or so he had thought the first twelve times she had demolished the furniture.

Then, the old mushroom would make a slight detour to the pharmacy, check its contents, and make his choice depending on his humor. That day, the attendant was feeling lighthearted and as such, he decided to borrow the laxatives from the pharmacy, promising that he would come back with more – obviously, he always forgot to come back and forced one of Peach's subject to do the dirty job in his stead.

Toadsworth laughed jollily, an impish expression residing on his pampered visage. "With that, I expect some fireworks!" Shaking his head at his own hilariousness, the elder exited the room, neglecting to switch off the light.

Like everyday, he would inche his way slowly in the narrow stairway, making sure to halt the workers' progress as much as he could, feigning a pant or two every two minutes, before entering the kingdom of Tayce T. and spilling the entire bottle of laxatives – and by that, it meant that the bottle and its top really made their way inside – in her cooking pot, which held the food the servitors were going to eat.

"Oh, Tayce, I am impressed!" Toadsworth congratulated her as she blushed furiously. "I did not know you could get any uglier," he chuckled, as she laughed with him.

"Oh, Toadsworth, you're such a charmer..." A pause. "Wait, what?" she asked, realization hitting her. Unfortunately, she could not ask for explanations: Toadsworth had a way to escape as fast as he could from dangerous situations – it was one of the many things he was blessed with.

As nice as it was, the old mushroom could evidently not stay in the vicinity of the explosive cooking, but still needed to use the bathroom before it became too cluttered. Naturally, Toadsworth took a very long time, taking solace in the fact that a Toadette was wiggling uncomfortably in front of the restroom. Curiously, when he came out, she seemed dejected and walked away, her head held low.

"You can use the bathroom!" he called out to her cheerfully, as she ran away crying.

After his usual routine, Toadsworth would eat outside, often picking the most expensive restaurant in town. The mushroom was a man of many tastes, and the owners were accustomed to his arrival in their humble abode. Upon entering the restaurant, which name was 'Phalloïde' – a French name always attracted dumb customers who thought the cuisine would be elaborated and exquisite – the Toad remarked the guest book placed on the side and decided to add an annotation.

Your cuisine sucks ass, smells like shit, looks like Birdo, tastes like vomit and sounds like one of these new artists. Love – Tayce T.

Toadsworth smiled in delight, knowing for sure that his comment would have a positive impact on the quality of the meals that were served. Admittedly, it did not seem well-worded, however, Princess Toadstool's attendant was convinced that, after a sorrowful period of introspection, the cooks would reinvent their cuisine and improve their skills.

Chuckling to himself, Toadsworth made sure to buy the most expensive dishes, thinking that after all he went through during his work, he could be rewarded for his endeavors and unwind, eating good food. "I'll have the Extra Deluxe Menu, with salmon as a starter, Mushroom Delight as the main course, an assortment of cheeses and a stacked cake as a dessert," he demanded, throwing his menu at the purple-pigtailed waitress who was taking his order.

Then, Toadsworth would criticize the food he was given when nobody was around, and send his commentary at a culinary expert anonymously, so as to not be pinpointed as the person responsible for the restaurant's reevaluation. "The staff leaves much to be desired," he whispered as he waved to the waitress who winked at him in response, "one waitress tried to get to me with her charms, but I was not swayed so easily. For an establishment of this rank, I expected better than to have a prostitute serve my dishes," he finished, sounding offended.

At around the time he finished the cheese, he would call one of his friends and invite them over at the restaurant: it was one of his favorite times of the meal as he imagined how disappointed they would be in hearing that he had already departed long ago – without paying his fee – and that the personnel expected his friend to offer a monetary compensation. "Hello Russ T.! Would you like to come over to the Phalloïde so we can discuss whatever happened in our uneventful lives recently?"

Then came the boring part of his day, the part when he would actually have to do something every once in a while. For example, that day, he had been tasked to append his signature at the end of two documents, and he did it without much commitment, annoyed at the fact that he could not live his life freely. "Why don't the plebeians give up already? We will continue to raise the taxes, how else would we be able to host all of these Mario Parties otherwise?"

Often, the old mushroom would sneak to his bedroom and take a prolonged nap, wary of the environmental noise. If it sounded like someone was going to enter his room, he would have to make use of his quick reflexes to jump under his bed and avoid detection, because the other workers were sure to comment on his lazy behavior – which was untrue. Toadsworth was a hard-worker...but his age was slowing him down and he had to rest at times.

Thankfully for the aging counselor, he was authorized to do as he pleased when night came, because he was such a great aide for the princess. As usual, Toadsworth faked a seizure so that bystanders would come to his help and drive him to the nearest hospital, curiously called 'Toadvice Hospital', where he would ditch them and slip by unnoticed by the security (and on the off-chance that people would try to impede his progress, the advisor had a trump card: he would resort to blackmail), before walking at a fast pace in direction of his favorite casino, the 'Chet Rippo', named after the individual, who was a good friend of Toadsworth. "What a good Samaritan, always helping those in needs of new addictions."

Unfortunately for the purple-clad mushroom, Chet was out of town that day, making business with the benevolent gangs of Rogueport, or so people claimed. However, all of that was unknown to Toadsworth who entered the place jollily and took his usual seat.

Then...he was not so sure about what had occurred. He remembered drinking vodka mixed with malt whiskey, several shot at that, each of them containing at least thirty centiliters of that substance, but Toadsworth was no alcoholic. No, he was actually priding himself on being a responsible drinker, he knew when to stop, as well as his limits. And that night, he decided he had reached his limits after he had bludgeoned with a glass bottle a purple crocodile who had cheated at a poker game.

Security soon arrived on the scene and eyed the old man suspiciously, as he gave them a reasonable version of what had happened, "It was him! He hit himself on the head hard, and then handed me the bottle to make it look like I did it!" blubbered the mushroom in a rather convincing act.

"Like we care!" snarled a well-built Kremling, kicking Croco to the side in order to move forward.

"You're rather hard on your kin, aren't you?"

"Look," started the second member of the security, a towering Hammer Bro wearing a nice suit, "we don't give a shit about armed assaults on our clients or whatever."

"But what we don't like, it's guys like you. People who keep comin' and comin' and never pay for their drinks. So either you pay or you get the hell outta here, got it?"

"Why, how dare you threaten me? Don't you know me and your boss go way back then? I could have you fired right this moment!" Toadsworth huffed, taking a swing at the Kremling, but hitting a poor Goomba who had the misfortune of passing by at the time.

"The boss ain't here, so get out!"

"I'm afraid I must refuse!" Toadsworth defied them, standing tall and proud. "You'll have to make me!"

Moments later, Toadsworth dusted his clothes and waved his cane in the casino's direction angrily. "I will remember this affront!" How dare they exclude him from their establishment?

And that was when Toadsworth realized that, no matter how respectful and dignified he was, no matter how hard he tried to please everyone, no matter how kind, gentle and admirable he could be, he would never get the respect he yearned for.

He, Toadsworth, the epitome of wisdom, generosity and selflessness, was constantly mocked and ridiculed by his peers, in spite of the numerous good deeds he accomplished each and every day of his life.

His only way to be respected again was to earn big fat rolls, and soon. And to that end, he would come up with a perfect plan.

It's been a while since Homicidal Party, and I have had this idea for a long time ! Trust me, the introduction has almost nothing to do with the actual plot, haha. Except for the fact that Toadsworth is plotting something...

But yes, although the style of this chapter differs from the following ones, I hope it still got you to smile a little. ^^

Poor Toadsworth needs a break, and he will get it.