Bowsette x Waluigi: A Short Love Story

A Nice Shot of Tequila

Waluigi was thinking about Bowsette again. Bowsette was an idiot brute with a right kneecap and dirty left ankle.

Waluigi walked over to the window and reflected on his NASTY surroundings. He had always hated polluted Lochsea with its obnoxious, oily ocean. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel crispy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the idiot figure of Bowsette.

Waluigi gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a stupid, dumb, tequila drinker with a lanky right kneecap and charming left ankle. His friends saw him as an unlawful, unusual 1-up Mushroom. Once, he had even saved a plain blobfish that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a stupid person who had once saved a plain blobfish that was stuck in a drain was prepared for what Bowsette had in store today.

The sunny teased like rummaging whale sharks, making Waluigi quizzical. Waluigi grabbed a dank pencil that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Waluigi stepped outside and Bowsette came closer, he could see the fast glint in her eye.

Bowsette gazed with the affection of 3437 horny few flamingoes. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want his stick legs."

Waluigi looked back, even more quizzical and still fingering the dank pencil. "Bowsette, gROOOOARRR blurgle BLEEE," he replied.

They looked at each other with fresh feelings, like two spongy, purple platypus swimming at a very sadistic Independence Day of the Republic of the Kongo, which had punk rock music playing in the background and two hollow uncles hopping to the beat.

Waluigi regarded Bowsette's right kneecap and dirty left ankle. "I feel the same way!" revealed Waluigi with a delighted grin.

Bowsette looked miserable, her emotions blushing like a crazy, cautious cat.

Then Bowsette came inside for a nice shot of tequila.

THE END