Quickly I dash with a conscious flowing of the mind, up and down, up and down. Pixilated turtles of a varying sort all advance with what looks to be uninhibited anger, where as a funny little mushroom man hops in flustered hatred over his grotesque brown coating. All the while I search diligently for an estranged princess crippled in the arms of a presumed psychotic, but more than likely just lonely turtle-like dragon donning a spiked shell and overgrown toenails.

From lands strategically spread with fruit trees, to sweltering dungeons deep in the lair of amicable evil, I trudge. Though, my pace is not a constant. Soon enough I'm not quickly dashing anymore, but rather methodically scaling a limited fence overseeing my inevitable doom in the form of a livid stream of lava. Face to face I soon stand with dozens of toonish extremists ready to commit themselves to the cause. Bug-like creatures both large and small force me to make daring escapes to the other side of the barrier, only to repeat my actions over and over while desperately holding on to my hat. The hot pool of liquid is starting to look a little more appealing at this point, but onward I strive. “FOR KING AND COUNTRY!” I think to myself as I jump from the fencing to the stoned floor below. The only thing standing between me and... and him, at this point is a doorway that is reminiscent to that of a black hole. Deep breaths I take before I leap, conquer and reclaim what was once mine.

Bowser, the name alone sent tunic waves down my spine. Defeating him in the two dimensional world didn’t quite seem enough for him. Keeping up with the times, a fully digitalized three dimensional foe would make his way to my Zenith television set in my pre-pubescent years. Once again he has snatched the woman of my dreams, and I begin to wonder if she’s worth the hassle as I start to fancy her little friend, aptly nicknamed Toad (stools are for losers). Alas, it could never be; He a mushroom, me a stereotypical Italian. So onward I fight, but no longer through a land of scrolling trees and fence. Instead I walk a more liberating path unbound by singular jumps and a lack of directional depth. Atop a grassy knoll under the yellowed sun, I begin to formulate a plot against the distant round men painted black with a fuse, eyes wider than Roger Rabbit. “It’ll be just like tag!” I think to myself. Slowly but surely I sneak up behind one of the critters, and with one quick attempt I snatch him off his chubby little feet and begin to fondle his shiny underside as he squirms. In fear of a witness I toss him aside as I chase another, less squeamish victim. The aforementioned character, thankful of his freedom would soon explode in joy... tis the life of a Bob-omb.

After a very long day and many patches of burnt grass littered in gunpowder tracings it is only natural to take a dip in the local moat. Unfortunately for me, the shadow cast from the adjacent castle is a bit too much for my Floridian tastes. So, where am I to go? To the gallery of course! If you can’t live it, dream it! – That’s what I always say. Admiring the crystal blue waters painted under the legs of a long legged spider, I stand in awe. Being me, I had to touch it (Now you’re starting to understand why I wear the gloves, first the Bob-ombs, now the paintings!).

In a swirl of colors my body is sucked into the spider's realm and headfirst I plummet into the waters that once looked so alluring. The game would pause just a moment later as I would inevitably concede to my disgust for the scenery and multi legged water walkers, better known as Jesus Arachnus to the scientific community. Finding my way back to the courtyard I began climbing to the top of the highest tree I could find, only to jump off from the peak in hopes of landing on something innocent, like a Bob-omb. Instead, I found myself face to face with a horrifying sight.

A million feet tall and a billion feet wide (fight the math and I’ll smite you!) stood a circular beast of iron. His eyes steamed a fiery red as he lunged at me, falling just inches short as he slams face first into the dirt. He’s been chained up! Being me and having nothing better to do, I start using some of those evasive maneuvers I learned in the plumbing industry. With a little finesse and a lot of dirt-induced “rug-burns," I eventually scamper my way to the source of the problem. A stump standing just my height seemed to be the only thing holding back this monstrous beast so eager to be set free. I began to punch the wood from atop, but I’d be damned if that thing didn’t budge. Stomping did little to nothing either. “I've GOT IT!” I exclaimed. A few double jumps and butt-bounces later, my derriere would prove useful to more than just overhaul jokes as I drove the stake deep enough into the ground that the chain could slip off. He, being the devilish Casanova that he was, looked so very excited as foam emitted from his mouth and he ran down the hill after those silly Bob-ombs. Ah, those Bombers... sucks to be them.

Hundreds of environments later and a staircase so twisted it would intimidate a baby puncher, my quest for the girl would end at the top of the clunky castle, AKA the Yao Ming. Hours and hours of questing had gone by and my only reward was the satisfaction of knowing I had completed my objective. Such fulfillment wouldn’t last long however, as a slightly degenerate spawning of the old bastardasaurus would revive the rivalry once again, grabbing Peach when it was least expected. Bah, and so I trudge. Though no longer under the shadow of a beautifully blocky castle or across a two dimensional plane, but through a majestically polluted island of furless big-nosed Bert and Ernies. Talk about a fall from grace. I couldn't be more grateful though, no not for the sludge-filled land, but for the trip across the Galaxy that waits for me just beyond the proverbial horizon. Ah, Me and Nintendo… It’s a love-hate relationship.