The Skittle We Never Bit, But Sucked Intimately

This Suuuucks

[The following fanfiction is purely based off of jokes/ideas]
Author's note: There are no Broodles or talking hats because I'm lazy and didn't want to add in a million extra things. This means no Cappy/ Cappy's sister, no Cap or Cascade Kingdoms, and no moons because Mario has a more efficiently powered Odyssey.

Mario's nose was filled with the scent of various spices and vegetables and the like. He took a deep breath and sighed as the Odyssey landed on the ground. When he stepped outside, the bright heat blinded him in pinks and yellows and oranges.
He stood for a moment, taking in his surroundings and creating a map in his head. When he was satisfied, he walked to the left and jumped over a small gap from one bright green metal platform to the other. The lava (or perhaps, soup) that the land was surrounded by was hot pink, and simmering with greedy heat. When he turned to face the front of him, two enlarged, cherry-red tomatoes were rolling towards him, steaming and squishy. Mario tossed his hat at them from a distance and they splattered into a puddle of sizzling red sauce.
Past them, there was a long canal encased by tall, man-made walls leading to a long piece of land, about the same level of height as the one he was standing on. He ran towards the edge and sprang to the right, landing on the wall. Jumping back and forth on the tan walls, Mario landed on the platform safely. He walked a green bridge stretching to the next area. Blocking him was a cliff with a variety of colored, three-pronged forks stabbed into it methodically. He climbed onto the lowest one and leaped to the next, repeatedly, until he had made it to his halfway point.            ((fork me this chapter sucks))
Standing on its three silver legs, a pink fork looked mildly distressed. It caught eye of Mario. "Th- that bird up  there showed up outta nowhere and took over our stewpot! Just when we were making more of our special Stupendous Stew too. Everyone was getting ready to dig in! Our stew is going to be ruined! Someone..." it coughed unsubtly, "...should go kill it. It's on top of that mountain there, there's no easy way up," it said, very obviously losing his concern.
"There's no easy way?" Mario begged.
"Nope. Not one."
"Then why the fuck didn't you guys make a bridge."
"Look, go deal with it and we'll give you a seat at the table. Metaphorically, of course. Don't'cha wanna be ruler o' forks?" it asked, eyes shifting.
"I'd rather fork my ex," Mario said, deadfaced. "But fine, I'll go kill the stupid bird."
"Thanks, mate."
Mario rolled his eyes and took in the terrain once again, scoping out the easiest climbing path to get to the top. When he found one, he discovered that it led to a point a few meters across from the actual stewpot. He figured he could jump it, since it was a tad bit higher.
Mario made his way to the base of the volcano and placed his foot on a tiny edge, pulling himself up with his arm. Over and over, the process continued until he was finally at the top, exactly where he had calculated. He crawled onto it and looked at the misshapen croissant lying in front of him. He climbed onto it and readied himself for the jump across, when suddenly, the gigantic white bird had spotted him or the croissant and flapped over and picked it up, carrying Mario with it. The bird plopped the croissant carelessly into the stew, Mario rocking and dodging the boiling splashes.
The bird flew back in front of the pot and beat its wings heavily to cool it off. The wind, however, was strong enough to blow Mario out of the stew, and it sent him falling back down to the base of the volcano.
"Oh, hey, you're back," the fork said cheerily. "So uh... Why is the bird not in the stew already?"
Mario took a deep breath. "Fuck this. I'm not doing that again," he announced, marching back towards the Odyssey. Behind him, he heard a great explosion. Then followed the angry squawk of the bird. Mario shook his head and continued walking.
After he set the destination, Mario stepped towards his wardrobe and opened it. A white suit with a red bowtie had piqued his interest. He slipped into it and put on its matching white tophat and sighed at his reflection in the mirror. "Let's-a go," he muttered with a sad, tired expression. He sat on the edge of his swivel chair and buried his head in his hands. He was going to the moon for a damned destination wedding.