It’s Wario Time

[Wario]

This is not the world you know...

"WAHHH" Wario screamed, sitting up quickly. Water splashed everywhere around him. His purple overalls were drenched, as well as his white gloves. With some difficulty, Wario stood up.

The world around him was completely blank, save for a few people wandering about. Wario himself was standing inside a marble fountain. He knew then that something else was at play here. Wario hated being wet. The fountain was lavish and well-decorated with flowers and vines. No gold though. Worthless.

"Where the hell am I?" Wario growled, rubbing the back of his head.

The fat man managed to roll over the edge of the fountain. He plopped onto the the ground. Pushing himself up, Wario grunted and stretched, hearing his back crack a little as he did.

Wario looked around. That white fucker was right. This wasn’t the world he knew. There were some strange people here. Off in the distance, some tall boy was shooting webs at a green and red robot while some serious looking soldier type was throwing gadgets at it. When the robot shot a laser, Wario officially gave up on joining the brawl.

Nearby, other people were crawling out of the fountain. They looked irritated, to be sure. One of them had his hands together, forming a small ball of rainbow energy between his palms. Bewildered, Wario watched. That pale, no-eyes-having motherfucker showed him something similar.

It was treasure.

Wario flew himself into a drop-kick. The other guy, noticing the mass of yellow flying towards him, yelped and vanished. Wario flew forward, landing on his face. He pushed himself up and snarled.

“Now where the hell did you go?” Wario growled, sneering from side to side.

Frustrated, Wario picked at his nose before gathering his hands together. Maybe he could try making something with this “Omnilium.”

For about six minutes, Wario struggled to maintain the flow of rainbow into the ground. Nobody told him things in this world required that much concentration. This suuuuuucked. When the time had passed, Wario finally had recreated his bike from back home. To be honest, he was going for the Wario car, but he quickly realized he had no idea how the engine worked. The bike, at least, having exploded into smithereens many times before, Wario knew what was inside.

Wario gazed at his bike lovingly. Oh, gorgeous vehicle. The wheels were even bigger than his own engorged head. So big, in fact, that the bike was capable of standing on its own two wheels and nothing else. Good thing, too. Any kickstand Wario’s feeble mind could imagine would have shattered under the weight of this behemoth. The external plating was a grotesque yellow, with painted purple flames engulfing it from the bottom. The steel parts, including the jagged handlebars (based on his own glorious mustache) that reached so far that Wario would need to stretch his arms to grip them, glimmered in the sunlight. The leather seat looked more like a throne than a motorcycle seat, even including a backboard for some reason. At least a dozen exhaust pipes jutted out the side. A monster of a bike, fitting of this monstrous man.

Wario gently climbed it and sighed. Now he felt right. He turned on the ignition.

The bike promptly exploded.

“WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” Wario screamed as he flew through the air, smoldering and smoking. He landed on his face again, his poor, poor nose.

“My bike...” Wario mourned as he looked up. Once again, it had scattered into dozens of pieces. The fat man pushed himself up and rolled up his sleeves.

“Let’s get this done,” Wario snarled, forming the rainbow ball again.