The Saddest Story Of The 20th Century...

The saddest story of the 20th century is Super Mario Bros. Go ahead. Laugh. It's okay. It's totally okay to giggle in amusement at the pain. It's absolutely normal to guffaw in merriment at the hardship. And please, by all means, go on and chortle, tittle, snicker and grin at the sorrow of an Italian plumber and his Tanooki suit.

Prick.

Imagine if you will: you are Mario. Middle class kind of guy, decent job. Union and what not. One day you're tightening a Float Valve and the next thing you know you're sucked down the cistern into a world where everyone is made of mushrooms. Before you can even begin to wonder why there are bricks floating in midair, these little 'Shroom heads demand you save some chick you've never met. Apparently, in the Mushroom Kingdom, the qualifications for hero are "fixes pipes good." If you have a way with a monkey wrench, obviously you have what it takes to defeat a fire breathing, anthropomorphic turtle dragon.

Not crying yet? Well, it gets worse, because now you will spend every day jumping on, kicking or raccoon-tailing living creatures to death. You will be forced to swim in squid-infested waters. You will be shot at by angry, sentient bullets with eyes. Ever had a turtle throw hammers at you? You will. Every day. Get used to it. Never mind the soul crushing disappointment that awaits you at the center of almost every castle. You think you got the Princess? No such luck. Some little Fungi is just chomping at the bit to tell you she's in another heavily guarded fortress stocked with spinning fire columns. Sorry.

Starting to tear up now, I see. Congratulations, pansy, you didn't even get to rock bottom. You eat a mushroom, you grow three times your size. Oops! Something touched you, and you shrink back immediately. Your body, stretched and smashed like a piece of Italian taffy, will be in tatters. And if the pain of instantaneous growth and shrinkage isn't enough, the slamming of your mustachioed cranium into floating bricks is. In no time at all, you will be a pill popping, alcoholic shadow of the plumber you used to be. By the way: can you carry hundreds of coins the size of your head? It's sort of a qualification.

Oh, and forget about seeing your family again. Know that while you're off climbing vines, playing magic flutes and masquerading as a doctor, your next of kin are filing missing persons reports. Thousands of tax dollars are being wasted searching for you. You will be all alone. Sure, your brother will be there. More tax dollars wasted. More tears shed. And he'll always be taller than you, too.

Like all tragedies, there is a minor bright spot: you have a dinosaur for a best friend. You can ride him, race him in go-karts or...well, that's about it. I doubt a relatively small dinosaur with a frog tongue is good for all that much. Sticking his tongue on things, perhaps? Maybe he tastes good.

There, I found your silver lining: Yoshi's are delicious.