Archive of Our Own

“Wah, everybody cheater! Next time I win!”
Waluigi shook his fist at the sky. Once again he had missed out on the podium. Baby Mario had won, which made Waluigi even angrier. He hated most of the cheaters in his racing league but Baby Mario was definitely the worst. What even was Baby Mario? He shook his head. It didn’t matter whether Baby Mario was the result of Mario’s inflated ego gaining its own consciousness or a time travel paradox with tiny, stumpy legs, what mattered was that this little shit couldn’t stop cheating.
Waluigi had often fantasised about pushing Baby Mario off a cliff, shooting him off of his tricycle, smashing his stupid face in with a gold coin, … He stopped himself. He took a deep breath. That was not what kart racing is supposed to be. He was better than this. Better than them. Why would Waluigi waste his time and energy on someone whose face was too weak of an environment to grow a moustache?

He drove his car back into the garage, making sure not to look at Baby Mario’s stupid baby face that was plastered on all the screens and ignore the audience chanting. He parked the car and cleaned it up for the night. Waluigi treated his car like most people would treat a prized race horse. He had actually proposed a horse racing league multiple times but the other savages from the Kingdom simply couldn’t appreciate a sophisticated sport without bombs and bananas and screeching tires. So Waluigi made do with what he had, his kart that he had built with his own two hands and that he affectionately called Hermann. He was in the middle of discussing the high and low points of the race with Hermann when he heard a banging on the door.

Shit, was it already that late?
“Yes, yes, it’s Waluigi Time!” He yelled in the vague direction of the door.
He hurriedly packed up his things and whispered a quick goodbye to Hermann. By the time he was ready to go there was a second knock at the door. Waluigi braced himself. He wasn’t looking forward to this at all but he had simply run out of excuses. He opened the door.
“It’s me -“
“Yes, Mario, hi,” Waluigi interrupted. “Sorry for the delay, I had to clean some shell splinters out of the exhaust pipe.”
Mario looked cheery as ever. Waluigi could only imagine how much joy this weirdo was getting from this situation. He wasn’t sure why Mario was so intent on ridiculing him at every occasion but he couldn’t blame him, he was an easy target after all.
“I’m so glad you are finally joining me! Wahoo!” Mario cheered.
Waluigi gritted his teeth and nodded curtly. Only an evil mastermind could have come up with this demeaning humiliation ritual. How could other people be so clueless when it came to Mario? Even Wario had told him to relax, this would just be a fun hangout, Mario just wanted to get to know the new members of the league, yadayadayada. In the end Mario had cornered him at the start of a race. There were just too many people looking at him, how could he have said no? Now he had to face the consequences and hang out with the nefarious plumber.
“Let’s a goooooo,” Mario interrupted his thoughts.
”Whenever you’re ready,” Waluigi begrudgingly responded.

When they arrived, Mario held the door open for Waluigi. He assumed this was to ensure that whatever trap was set up inside wouldn’t accidentally fire at Mario, but at this point there was no escaping it anyway. Waluigi had already resigned himself to be the punching bag for the rest of the evening. He took a deep breath and stepped through the door.
But there was no explosion. There wasn’t even a large crowd of people who were pointing and laughing at him. Well, there was a crowd of people, but they barely even looked up when Waluigi walked in. They all seemed to be focused on their own conversations. Waluigi paused. Was this maybe not a setup after all? But before he could even think about relaxing a new realisation swept over him. This was a social event. He would have to talk to people. Strangers. In his panic he turned to find the familiar face of Mario behind him. Even though he didn’t trust him, at least he knew Mario. He could stay close to him, pretend to laugh at his corny jokes and then try to leave at the first chance.
Mario did not seem to notice the anxiety in Waluigi’s face. Instead, he spread out his arms and announced “Welcome to the monthly meetup of magnificent moustacheholders!”. Waluigi could not believe this was a real thing. Sure, Mario had said some nonsense about how Waluigi’s moustache was too extravagant to be kept hidden in his garage, but at the time he had assumed this was all part of his plan to lull Waluigi into a false sense of security. Apparently it was all true? Was Mario actually nice? Or at least honest enough to admit that Waluigi’s moustache was in a league of its own? To be fair, even an idiot could see that. Waluigi took great pride in his facial hair. His moustache was a carefully curated accessory, perfectly tailored to his face but also a work of art in its own right. It wasn’t too bushy and thick like Mario’s, hiding the upper lip and adding a bulkiness to the face. On the other hand it wasn’t weak and wispy like Timothy Chalamet’s pathetic attempt at proving his adulthood. Waluigi’s moustache was perfect. It had the strength to maintain its shape in a way that sometimes seemed to defy gravity but it also had the lightness to be playful and flexible when he felt like it. He was proud of his moustache, but not boastful. The idea of attending an event for “magnificent moustacheholders” would never have occurred to him. Mainly because he was terrified of the socialising that such an event required but he would never admit that openly. But he was here now. He would get through this, get back home and spend the rest of his days safely alone in his apartment.
“What are we doing here?” he asked Mario.
“I have been telling people about your moustache so much, they all can’t wait to meet you! Wahoo!”
“What? Why?”
“Let’s a go!” Mario ignored Waluigi’s confused reluctance and pulled him into the crowd.

The next two hours seemed to last for weeks. Waluigi talked to more people than he had in the previous two years. What surprised him the most was that a lot of the conversations were actually enjoyable to him. He met a man called Ron, who looked remarkably similar to Mario but had none of the annoying cheerfulness. There was the Lorax, a charming creature in bright orange with a moustache as bushy as a forest and stories that inspired a deep sense of responsibility. He discussed the intricacies of remote controlled race cars with Nikola, whose moustache somehow seemed to highlight his intellect. There was a business man named Vito whose dedication to his moustache was only rivaled by the loyalty he had to his family. Charlie, who had little moustache and few words but still managed to express himself beautifully. The pirate captain James who managed to twirl his moustache even with the hook that was replacing his hand. A woman named Frida made up for her faint moustache through her undeniable presence and powerful character. Snacks were being handed out by Julius, a pale man with a moustache whose swoops seemed to mirror the curvature of the chips. Soon, Waluigi didn’t even notice that Mario was no longer by his side.
It wasn’t just that the people he met had magnificent moustaches and fascinating personalities, they were also interested in him. They complimented him on his moustache, inquired about his interest, his fashion, his hobbies and his dreams. It was the first time in a long time that Waluigi felt like he was being seen as who he truly was, not just a bad kart racer or a tennis player with anger issues. And even crazier, people seemed to like him.

Just as Waluigi was really starting to feel fully comfortable in his new role as a sociable moustacheer, he noticed his moustache twitching. He tried twirling it similarly to the way he had seen so many of his conversation partners do this today. However, immediately after having put every hair carefully back into its place, there was another twitch. Maybe there was a breeze in the room? He looked around. None of the other moustaches seemed to be moving.

“Is something wrong?” Dr. Ivo asked, interrupting his thoughts. “No no, it’s fine, I think I just saw a shadow or something”. Ivo seemed deeply troubled by this. “Shadow you say? I have to take care of something, talk to you soon!” and with that Ivo disappeared into the crowd, leaving Waluigi standing by himself. He barely registered how weird this interaction had been because he was focused on the peculiar tugging sensation coming from his moustache. Tugging? Yes, now that he thought about it, it felt like his moustache was tugging at his face rather than simply twitching. He tugged it back. What was going on here? Had a bird made its nest under his nose without him noticing? It seemed highly unlikely. He ran his fingers over his moustache again. No, there was nothing else there. Another tug at his moustache, this time even stronger. It was like his face was being yanked around to the right by his moustache. He let his head follow the force he was feeling and turned around.

”Careful there my friend!”
Waluigi had been so absorbed with his moustache mystery that he hadn’t paid attention to what was happening around him. He had spun around so energetically that he had bumped right into the man standing behind him.
”Wah, I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot!” Waluigi started to apologise while regaining his balance. He looked up to see the face of the man he had knocked into.

When their eyes met it was as if he had been struck by lightning. All the air was knocked out of him. He could no longer hear anything happening around him. He was petrified. His moustache was electrified. It was no longer affected by gravity, only by him. Every hair was screaming for this man that Waluigi was staring at. He couldn’t look away. The man stared back at him. The man’s moustache was incredible. Even after spending the entire evening surrounded by moustaches, it was still unlike anything Waluigi had ever seen. Somehow it was calling to him, waiting for him, drawing him in.

It felt like an eternity before Waluigi was able to breathe again. He tried to introduce himself, but all he could muster was a croaked “Wah..”.
He could feel his moustache trying to pull him even closer into this stranger and it took all his willpower not to give in. What was going on with him?
“Hermann,” the stranger said.
His voice was the only thing that could reach Waluigi in this bubble. The noise of the conversations around them, the smell of the food in the air, the fluorescent lights above them, all of this felt like it was in another world, somewhere far away. Despite this, Waluigi tried his best to concentrate on his senses. Anything to distract himself from the intense force that was pulling him towards Hermann.
”My name is Waluigi, I am so sorry for bumping into you. Wrong place at the wrong time I guess haha” he laughed nervously. Why couldn’t he look away?
Hermann cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. Waluigi could feel his moustache urging him to do the same, but he pushed the feeling aside.
”I am Hermann Minkowski,” the man said. ”You know, it’s all relative but I think you might actually be in exactly the right place at the right time.”
Waluigi blushed. Before he could respond, Hermann continued: “In fact, this exact moment is so perfect that it seems impossible to imagine time and space having worked on it independently.”
Waluigi held his breath again. Without even realising it, the two of them had gotten even closer to each other. He could see his reflection in Hermann’s pupils, which looked unreasonably large considering the bright lights in the room.
Hermann was almost whispering now.
”It feels like maybe time and space are just two parts of one whole. Destined to be together. Intertwined.”
Maybe Hermann wasn’t just talking about physics anymore. Waluigi’s moustache was tingling, impossible to ignore. He leaned forward to close the last gap between them. Their moustaches reached for each other as their lips met and the two soulmates kissed for the first time.