Chapter Text
Yet another band is auditioning at Boo’s Lantern, and they sound literally like everyone that’s auditioned so far.
But still, Mario asks a Boo named Boo-Hoo, “Well?”
“Too many instruments.” Boo-Hoo decides.
“Damnit.” Mario swears. “Can you not get through one round of auditions without whining about something? Do they sound good, can you tell if the audience will like them? That’s what you should be paying attention to.”
“I only work here for the money. I don’t like entertainment.” Boo-Hoo says.
“Boo-Hoo, can I let you in on a little secret?” Mario asks, then just says, “You’re gonna be seeing less and less of me around here, so I need someone to hold down the fort for me. You can’t do that unless you’re more open minded about entertainment. Now.” He points. “Tell me, right now, what you think about that f*cking band.”
Boo-Hoo looks, then says, “I like magic acts better.”
“f*ck you.” Mario says angrily, then walks to the stage. “Right before graveyard. And lose the clarinet.” Then to Boo-Hoo. “That good enough for you?”
“You really need to work on your leadership skills.” Boo-Hoo mutters.
“Next act!” Mario calls, right as Luigi walks in, noticing the act on stage.
“What spot are you giving them?” He asks Mario curiously.
“You’re joking right? They have no chance in a place like this.” Mario says. “But f*ck, when someone plays the triangle that good, mmm.”
They listen for a moment, then Mario turns to Luigi. “Okay, back to work. You made it.”
“I did.” Luigi says. “Do with me what you will.”
They sit at a table, and Mario starts, “So I’ve thought long and hard about this. I want you performing regularly. More places besides here. Just so you can learn the ropes. Right now, the industry doesn’t even know you exist.”
“What are you talking about?” Luigi asks as he takes off his jacket.
“What kind of comedian do you wanna be?” Mario asks first. “Script or improv?”
“Improv.”
“One and done, or fly by the seat of your pants?”
“Seat of my pants.”
“Personal or political?”
“Personal with the occasional political thrown in, when it comes up.”
“I stand corrected. I guess the industry does know you exist.” Mario says. “But we still need some idea of what you’ll be saying up there?”
“You’re right.” Luigi reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a yellow pad. “I brought this with me.”
“Aren’t you a little old to still be writing in a journal, Lu?” Mario teases.
“It’s not my journal.” Luigi denies.
“Seriously, does Destiny know she wasn’t your first time?” Mario grins.
“I said it’s not a journal.” Luigi insists. “Whenever I have a thought, I write it down.”
“In a journal.” Mario points out with a laugh.
“No I don’t!” Luigi denies in exasperation.
“Do I really have to slog through all the country club dinners you went to?” Mario demands.
“I write down ideas for jokes, okay?” Luigi says finally.
“’Ugh, the caviar expired. Never coming back here again.’” Mario says in an exaggerated whine.
“Will you just look at it, please?” Luigi begs.
Mario finally gives up and picks up the pad, as another act goes on stage, flipping through the pad. “Okay, you got some interesting thoughts.”
“Thanks?” Luigi says nervously.
“Ha, I was right! You did complain about the caviar.” Mario pumps a fist.
“You know what caviar is? Fish eggs! And it’s disgusting!” Luigi tells him.
“Okay, fine. But I’m not just talking about material, Lu.” Mario says, setting down the yellow pad.
“There’s more?”
“You have to know when to wait for someone to laugh.” Mario says, as Luigi takes back the pad. “Lu, are you listening to me?”
“Uh uh.” Luigi nods. “I’m writing it down so I don’t forget. You said to wait for someone to laugh.”
“Know your audience.” Mario goes on, as Luigi writes it down. “Dealing with people heckling you. How to present yourself when you go on, how to make a lasting impression when you leave. Know everything about the microphone you’re using. That’s a tough one. One wrong move, you could end your career, and even your life just from a cord related accident.”
“What? Come on, you’re exaggerating.” Luigi says.
“Not by much.” Mario concedes.
“Hey, now that I’m thinking about it, what’s your honest opinion on my name?” Luigi asks, crossing his arms.
“Well, I’ve known it my whole life, but there’s worse names to have.”
“I need a stage name.” Luigi decides.
“What? Why?” Mario doesn’t get it.
“I can’t use my real name for this.” Luigi says. “I can’t let anyone know they’re hearing my life story. They should hear the life story of…Mr. L!”
“Are you a comedian or a dashing thief?” Mario teases.
“Dr. L?”
“You’re not a doctor. Your name is fine.” Mario insists.
“No it’s not.” Luigi says. “Luigi Mario is someone people know. Silver L--”
“Is a street drug. Absolutely not.”
“Fine, I’ll keep thinking on it.” Luigi promises.
“That reminds me, I want you to see something.” Mario stands up, walks to the counter, and comes back, giddy, handing the card to Luigi.
“’Super Mario – Manager.’” Luigi reads, grinning. “Really slick.”
“Made them myself. I now have 10, including that one. Give it back.” Mario holds out his hand, takes it, goes back to put it away, calling over his shoulder,
“We should go to Rogueport. We gotta check out Goombella’s set.”
“Who’s Goombella?” Luigi asks.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that. She was in the papers.” Mario says. “She’s going places, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Luigi says.
“Are you serious?” Mario says as he comes back to the table.
“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy with my home life.” Luigi apologizes.
“Boo-Hoo, you’re in charge.” Mario calls.
“I don’t wanna be!” Boo-Hoo whines.
“We’re out of here.” Mario says, muttering under his breath. “Never heard of Goombella…”
“Sorry, what’s happening?” Luigi says.
“You coming or not?” Mario asks, not stopping.
“Wait, hang on.” Luigi scrambles to get up and grab all his stuff.
“While the night’s still young, Lu! Come on!”
“I’m in love.” Luigi declares as they walk into a record store, walking up to the wall of records. “Dad’s office smells like this.”
Then he gasps, walking over and picking up a record,“‘Connie Francis sings Fun Songs for Children’? I love Connie Francis.”
“Always knew you were a Mama’s boy.” Mario teases.
“Oh shut up.” Luigi admonishes, then sets it down, flipping through the records. “’Davy Crockett’. ‘Peter Pan’. Jesus, MJ and Desi would have a field day in here.”
“Follow me. That’s not why we’re here.” Mario instructs, walking away.
“What could be better than this?” Luigi asks, petting the dog lying on the floor before hurrying to catch up, then following Mario down the stairs to the basem*nt.
He’s floored. “What the hell?” Luigi exclaims, making the two Toads look at him.
“Please don’t let him touch anything!” one Toad begs. “These records are precious! Any sales have to be approved by the owner!”
“Sorry, where are my manners?” Mario gestures to the Toads. “Luigi, brother of mine, meet DJ and JD.”
“Hello!” Luigi waves, crossing his arms.
When the Toads just stand there, Mario jokes, “And now you’ve just made their brains short circuit.”
“But seriously, where are we?” Luigi asks again, looking around.
“A store, museum, and archive, all in one.” Mario explains. “Wouldn’t you two agree?” he asks the Toads, then when there’s no reply, Mario shrugs. “Won’t get anything out of them now. But you will not find a collection like this anywhere but here. They have stuff that no other record store would dare to put on their shelves. And they don’t just sell it, they track it down so they can sell it.”
“Speeches, concerts.” Luigi says in awe, looking through them. “’Six Characters in Search of an Author, 1921', are you f*cking serious? I thought records weren’t popular until now.”
“It’s actually--”
“Don’t listen to them.” Mario tells Luigi. “Follow me.”
They walk into another room in the basem*nt, Mario telling him, “This is why I brought you here. All the good records of comedians, dating all the way back to the beginning of the 20th century. All right here. Pat Cooper and Dom DeLuise are amazing, but that’s just scratching the surface.”
“Who are these guys?” Luigi asks, flipping through them.
“Parties.” Mario explains. “Not really your thing, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some clue about them.”
“At least he’s wearing gloves.” DJ mutters from the doorway.
“I know.” JD agrees.
“‘Joey Bishop’” Luigi reads, then decides. “I’m gonna buy this.”
As they leave the room, Luigi asks the Toads, “How much for this one?”
“Not for sale.” DJ says immediately.
“DJ…” Mario warns as he rejoins them.
“That’s the only copy I have!” DJ whines.
“DJ…” Mario warns again.
“15 coins.” DJ concedes.
“Done.” Luigi drops the coins on the table, then tells Mario. “You know, it didn’t occur to me until recently just how sheltered I was. It’s like I’m the moon, watching everyone from afar. But don’t worry, I’m coming back to Earth, pronto. You remember me in trade school. We only graduated because my notes were flawless, my research impeccable.”
As he takes the record from DJ, he asks Mario, “So where are we going now?”
“How about Thursday night?” Mario asks. “Check out who’s doing sets.”
“Thursday night. Done.” Luigi agrees, then to DJ and JD. “I will be coming back here.”
“Get a grip, would ya?” Mario scolds them, then follows Luigi up the stairs and out of the store.
