The Morelli Bros. (Chapter I, Part VIII)


Like many a nameless Bond villain, the creatures announced their presence as one.  A quick count put their numbers at a dozen, a formidable number had they been people, but these beings didn’t seem to be all that intelligent.  While their eyes glared at him with malevolence, they continued to slowly march forward despite what he had done to their brethren.

He noticed, as well, that they didn’t come as a single group, but rather, in small groups of two or three at most.

“Luigi,” he commanded with authority.  “Flip!”

His brother, who was still recovering from their sudden trip to Neverland, rose into a crouch and laced his hands, palms up, before him.  With a final nod to show that he was ready, Mario launched himself into action.  His legs pumped beneath him as he charged toward his brother.  It was a move he had practiced many times with his sibling, one he was normally more comfortable with when using a vertical barrier, and was something he had thought of for just such an occasion.

His brother, who was every bit as strong as he, gave his hands to him as an impromptu spring.  Mario’s right foot found the pocket they had created, and in the next second, his left foot landed on Luigi’s right shoulder.  The younger of the two then redirected his momentum and launched him with all his might.  The effect couldn’t have been more perfect, for the older Morelli now flew up and away from him, spinning in mid-air to face the attacking creatures.

As Mario came down upon the leading trio, Luigi sprung to his feet and ran towards a duo that were now branching off in his direction.  Unlike the other, who leapt with the grace of practice, Luigi jumped into the air with his legs still pumping as wildly as if they had never left the ground.

“Wa-HOO,” Mario yelled to the side of him, where he was using the natural sponginess of the creatures to bounce from one to the next.  Luigi laughed, but his merriment was cut short when he made his first contact with one of the Goomba creatures. He watched in horror as the fungal creature burst beneath him, its intestines jettisoning from a large split in the creature’s side.  Unlike any digestive system he’d ever heard about, this creature’s was every bit the nature of its body. They were dark green, covered in slime, and emitted a smell worse than any sewer he had ever worked around.

He had nearly slipped from the top of the creature’s chitinous dome when it reached its lowest point, and his recovery was even worse.  While Mario continued to bounce from one creature to the next, he had to do everything in his power to just maintain his sense of momentum.  Unlike his brother, after the second of the two splooshed beneath him, he found himself over-compensating the anticipated launch, and instead of leaping gracefully into the air, he flew straight out and face planted, hard, into the dirt.

Luigi felt the air rush out of him as he hit the ground.  Stunned, he looked into the eyes of another of the foul creatures.

The Morelli Bros. (Chapter I, Part VII)


There it was again.  That awful, low growling from behind him.  It shook him to the core, making him tremble from fear, and he was frozen where he stood.  Not one of his well-trained muscles would respond to his commands, he couldn’t even lift so much as a finger.  He could only think imagine the horror creeping upon him.

He could feel it looming over him, omnipresent and powerful.  His mind refused to accept anymore information, the strangeness of it all was suddenly too much.

“Luigi,” he screamed.  At that moment, he knew that he couldn’t do this alone.  Whatever this was, he needed something familiar.  More than any other time in his life, he needed his lanky, clumsy, little brother at his side.


It was the same guttural whisper.  It sounded like it was only a few feet behind him, maybe closer, but he remained powerless to face it.  He could hear the grass rustling as it approached.  Dry leaves crunched beneath its feet, but even worse was the smell.  The air had shifted.  A warm breeze carried it around him, permeating his clothes and senses.

It smelled of rotten vegetation, and something much more sinister.  It was something akin to meat that had turned sour as it readied itself for the inevitable maggots which would soon inhabit it.

“Mario!  Jump, man!”

It was Luigi who broke him from the spell.  Just like that, the fear was gone, and his instincts took over.  It was as when they were children, practicing Parkour and showing up all the other children in their neighborhood.  His right hand became a fist.  He bent slightly at the knees, and with a powerful thrust upward, he leapt.

“Ah-haa,” he exclaimed involuntarily.  It was a sound that came unbidden, much like the kiai used by martial artists, and it strengthened his maneuver. The ground fell away from him as he was propelled one, two, four feet into a standing jump.  He watched it fall away with a sense of wonder, surprised at the power behind it, and for a split second he felt free, however short-lived the feeling would be.

At that moment, the source of his trepidation made its ambling appearance.

He barely had any time to think about it, for as soon as it was in his sight, so had he begun his rapid descent to earth.  His feet touched down on its chitinous, slimy, debris covered head.  He felt, rather than heard, something snap beneath him, as the autumn colored creature was compressed by his weight.

There was a gush of black inchor that spread in all directions, and two white orbs blew out from beneath the cap in front of him.  He retched when he realized it was the creature’s eyes.  One had turned slightly upwards, glaring at him accusingly from the dark splatter it now rested in.

Then, as the thick head of the creature reached the ground, it pushed up like a spring, launching him a couple of feet up and away from the creature’s body.  As before, his training took over when he hit the ground, allowing him to land in a crouch that absorbed the shock from his fall.

“M- M- Mario!  Behind-a you!”

He still hadn’t found his brother in the overgrowth, but he trusted in him enough that finding him would come second to his concerns.  He spun around to face the direction from which the creature had come, only to see a dozen more like it approaching.  They were shaped, oddly enough, like mushrooms.  Much like the hard shell of the first one, their heads were covered in various degrees of slime and rotten vegetation, and they glared at him with impossibly large eyes.



The Morelli Bros. (Chapter I, Part VI)

It was his sense of sound that returned first.  Even before he felt it on his skin, the grass and leaves sighed as a warm breeze brushed past them.  Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirruped playfully, calling out to whomever would listen to its song.  What darkness had once surrounded him was gone, chased away by the natural light of the sun.

“How long was I out,” he wondered.

His body ached, bruised from the rubble that had battered him in the alley.  Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, balled his hands into fists, and ground them into his eyes as he attempted to chase away the cobwebs.

When he opened his eyes, the light stabbed into them like red-hot daggers.  His vision was blurry, but what he could see was nothing short of confusing.  A sea of green surrounded him, undulating softly to and fro in the wind.  His head barely poked over the tips of the soft blades of grass, which he could now identify by its fresh smell, something he hadn’t experienced since he was a boy.


As his vision swam into focus, he could see that he was indeed in the middle of the richest pasture he had ever laid eyes upon.  The grass was deep emerald, and as he rose to his feet, he discovered that it reached nearly to his waist.  Though the ground around his immediate area was flat, he soon learned that he was between two lines of hills that sharply rose and fell to either side of him.

“Luigi,” he hollered again as a sinking feeling began to grow inside of him.  The last thing he remembered, before being swallowed by the darkness, was the look in his brother’s eyes as he slipped away.  It was the fear of a man who know he was going to die.

He turned, and what he saw next stopped him in his tracks.  Suddenly, the desperation was pushed aside, the need to find his sibling, forgotten.  For, before him was something that in all his years as a plumber, had never existed until this moment.

Mario Morelli, son of Rocco and a master of his trade in his own right, was staring into the five foot diameter opening of a green steel pipe.  There was only a few feet in before it dropped off into the ground, but it was the sign over the opening that gave him more cause for concern.  In bold letters, in a font he didn’t recognize, was a word he could easily read.



He didn’t have long to ponder the implications, for behind him, something was shambling toward him.