It was a humid night in Diamond City, and Club Sugar was packed. Wall-to-wall, people swayed and jived to the pounding rhythms blasting from the DJ booth. The footfalls of the dancers couldn't be heard over the music, and the air was thick with heat and sweat. The crowd was eating it up. This was the nightlife. This is what they had been waiting for the whole week long. It was time to let loose, and party their troubles away.

Waluigi didn't know why he'd come. He wasn't much of a partier, for one. He never really felt at home among the bright neon lights of dance clubs and evening hotspots. That was more Wario's speed than his. But tonight, Wario had insisted he accompany him to Club Sugar. And now, a bumpy motorcycle ride later, he was sitting at a corner table and sipping at a drink that was far too sweet. Pink 'shroomade, judging by the flavor. That was his closest guess, anyway. He hadn't been listening when his cohort ordered the drinks.

Said cohort was sitting across the table, a finger firmly lodged up one of his nostrils. Typical Wario. Always doing something disgusting, even in public. Waluigi shook his head, and turned to watch the dancers.

"We oughta join up with 'em, beanpole." Wario said. "I can show you some real smooth moves."

"No thanks, garlic-breath." Waluigi scowled. "I'd rather sit here all night than be out there spinning around with you and that clod with the blue wig."

"His name," Wario said, "is Jimmy T. And fine. Suit yourself. Bet you have two left feet anyway." And with that, he was off, strutting out to the dance floor on those stubby legs of his.

Waluigi sighed to himself, and turned away. Whenever Wario took him out, it was like a part of him died inside. Contrary to his partner's belief, he was good at dancing. He loved to dance. Back home, in the privacy of his suite of rooms, he'd dance for hours. To slip into the rhythm and dance the worries out of his mind…it was wonderful. But it wasn't something he felt like he could share. Not in this place, anyhow. Club Sugar was a raucous, loud mess, just like the majority of its regular patrons.

Come to think of it, that was how Diamond City was in general. It wasn't really surprising. In fact, it was to be expected of a town transformed from a hole-in-the-wall hamlet to a bustling metropolis by Wario himself. It was a city in his image, well-suited to his needs, and the needs of others like him. No wonder Waluigi never liked coming here.

Sure, people treated him a bit better in Diamond City than they did back in the Toad Town area. But still, it wasn't as if he was exactly welcome. People only talked to him because they thought he was Wario's right-hand man. What better way to communicate their wishes and desires to the big man himself than through his "sidekick"? Ugh. I'm not a sidekick! I'm my own man. I don't need to hang on to Wario's overall straps to be something.

And he couldn't stand Wario's employees. Jimmy T. and his family were repulsive, and so was that snot-nosed 9-Volt and his teenage flunky hanger-on 18-Volt. Even Mona, always busy slavering over Wario, was disgusting. They were definitely NOT the kind of people he wanted to hang out with. Even so, he found himself dragged out to Diamond City more and more often these days. And he was getting so, so tired of it.

It appeared that his cohort had at last tired of "shaking his groove thing", as Jimmy T. so eloquently put it. He was now sitting at a table with Jimmy T., talking in a voice so loud that Waluigi could hear it over the music and across the room.

"Yeah, Wally's never any fun," Wario laughed, "he's skinny as a stick in the mud, and he acts like one, too. All stiff n' proper."

Jimmy T. grinned, and adjusted his sunglasses. "Yo, he oughta loosen up. With that bod of his, I bet you my entire wig collection he could boogie all night and then some."

"Nah, he'd never do that. I'm tellin' you, he can't dance worth Woo Beans. He can't do anything in our schemes without me helping him along. Useless as a poison 'shroom, if you ask me."

Waluigi grit his teeth in anger. How dare that short little pair of overalls trash talk me?! I've saved his skin more times than I can count! Useless? USELESS?! I'll…I'll show him!

The question was: how? If he stomped over and cursed him out, all Wario would do was laugh. Maybe he'd even punch him in the nose. No, violence wasn't the way. The best way to show Wario would be an indirect, non-physical one. One that demonstrated that he was the more talented person of the two. Waluigi sipped his 'shroomade, and thought hard. Soon enough, the proverbial lightbulb clicked on. A slow, uncertain smile curved across his face.

Do I really want to go through with this? he asked himself as he rose. Did he really want to reveal something so important to him? Something that he used to cope with the stress brought on by an indifferent world and an inconsiderate partner? As he walked across the room, his gaze met Wario's. Waluigi's eyes narrowed. The slightest flash of purple illuminated his dark pupils. Yes. Yes, he did.

He had to fight through the sweaty crowd for a spot. It wasn't a big spot, which was sort of a problem. But visibility was the real key. This was the only free space that afforded a decent view. Waluigi could plainly see Wario and Jimmy T. from where he stood. And more importantly, they could see him. Perfect.

Stretching out his limbs in quick preparation for the exertion to come, Waluigi wondered what song would be playing next. He hoped it was a good one. One with a nice beat, and-

Oh. A familiar rhythm reached his ears. Could it be? Yes. Yes, it could!

The DJ had just put on Destruction Dance, one of Waluigi's personal favorites. He couldn't count the hours that he'd practiced routines to it. Oh, now it was on.

He eased into the introductory steps, nice and easy, but following the rhythm of the song to a T. Apparently, he was doing well already. The clubbers around him were turning to watch. As the song picked up, so too did his moves. For once, Jimmy T. was right: his limber frame did help him dance. Every twist, every twirl, every step was perfectly timed. It was plain to see that he was in his element.

The world around him, the talk, the noisy club…it all began to fade. There was nothing left but himself. Himself, and the music. How he loved those heavenly rhythms, that piano, and that vibe so infectious it left him glowing. It was as close to being among the stars as he would ever be.

The song ended, and with a final pose, his dance did, too. It was time to return to reality, harsh as it was.

But there was a hint of sweetness to his bitter fate. The people around him cheered and clapped at his performance. Some high-fived him. Others shyly shook his hand or lightly patted him on the shoulder. They all loved him. What a pleasant change.

His face glowed with pride as he walked up to Wario and Jimmy T. Both were slack-jawed.

"So," Waluigi asked, "how was I?"

"Wh-whoa, man," Jimmy T. stammered, "that was a sick groove you had going on out there."

Wario nodded. "You were good out there, beanpole." For once, there wasn't a trace of his usual snide attitude. He was completely sincere.

Waluigi slid into the empty seat at the table, calling out an order of an eggplant cocktail to the waiter. It might be hours before he got out of this crummy place, but while he was here, he might as well celebrate. Tonight's victory had been a small one, but it had been a victory all the same. Tonight, he felt like a winner.