Goomba War Journal

A New Leader, A New Hope

A friend of mine brought me to a political rally today. The speaker had a brilliant two-point plan for reformation:

1) Kidnap the princess.

2) (To Be Announced)

Surely this Bowser is a revolutionary worth dying for. Also he was 14 feet tall and could breathe fire.

Joining Up

My mother cried, and I promised my fiancé I would write her everyday. Oh how I will miss her menacing unibrow and pronounced underbite on the cold, lonely nights to come. They’ve promised me 20,000 coins for college. When I get out, I want to become an orthopedic surgeon. Maybe then I can make myself some arms.

Issuing Supplies at Boot Camp

Today, our allies the Koopas lined up to receive their shells, wings, undershirts, helmets, throwing hammers, pipe-anchors for vicious piranha traps, squid tentacles, spines, giant bullet launchers, swinging columns of fire, or immortal skeleton bodies. Meanwhile, gracious King Bowser has provided us Goombas with shoes.

News From the Front Line

My brother Goomberto was killed today. There was no funeral, no trumpet sounded, only a single frame of animation. I hope Mario chokes on those blood-tainted 100 points and his dreams are haunted by the hideous ploopy sound of Goomberto’s flattening.

Relief From the Rear Guard

Weary from fighting, our division was relieved today by a highflying Lakitu. We all cheered as he swooped down in his flying cloud, attempting to decapitate our sworn enemy Mario. Morale took a hard hit when Mario kicked the Lakitu’s head in and took off in his flying cloud. I joked that it was the biggest victory ever for the Italian Air Force, but no one else laughed.

Comrades in Arms

I hung out with the Bob-omb squadron today. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to live every day knowing that you could be sent out to blow yourself up at a moment’s notice. All I know is those guys are pretty fucked up. They spent the whole day torturing Bullet-Bills with a hacksaw and reading eastern philosophy. They don’t eat anything that can’t scream. And now that I think about it, for guys made mostly of gunpowder they sure smoke a lot of cigarettes.

A Break in the Fighting

Army Command sent us a special present today to boost our spirits. Bowser and the Princess arrived and did a Laurel and Hardy style comedy act for us all. Bowser had some great jokes about impregnating the Princess with horrible lizard babies, and some real “A” material about what he planned to eventually do with her corpse. I didn’t find her jokes about sobbing and begging for mercy as funny though, but I’ve never liked female standup comedians.

The Final Face-off

It was the kind of day made for battle: sunny blue skies with cheerful, synthesized background music. As I sighted the enemy, I stuck to the plan: I walked slowly across my platform, never wavering in direction or facial expression. But despite my advance, that damned plumber leaped straight over me, as if somehow privy to my attack strategy! There’s clearly a mole in our midst. Or there will be, when we move to Super Nintendo.


Why the hell weren’t we trained to stop at the edges of cliffs?!? As I continue falling in endless limbo, waiting to be respawned when Mario restarts this level, I can only hope that the obstacle of my moving body was enough to make him misjudge a jump and fall to his doom. Unfortunately, I didn’t see what happened, as I was walking sideways, according to plan.