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Egotastic












That Loser Luigi: How Can Super Mario Have Such a Lame Brother?
With Mario’s fame and endless streak of heroic capers, spare a thought for Luigi. The second Mario brother (Alas, his name is indeed Mario Mario, the poor bastard) has a Herculean task, living up to the standard set by the main man. Still, he sets about this endeavour in an unconventional manner: a mixture of being worthless and crapping himself repeatedly. Somehow, this has proven ineffective. Fancy that.
Poor guy, always getting the dire jobs. In short, Mario’s a plumber that never actually does any plumbing. Luigi’s your man for the eight-foot floater that’s blocking your toilet. (the dire jobs pun was a delicious coincidence. I so enjoy when that happens.)
Which could well explain the constant state of bowel-loosening terror he lives in. His big moment came in Luigi’s Mansion, where he has to rescue his stricken brother from a spirit-sodden abode. He eventually succeeds, but fails to cut a particularly heroic figure while doing so. There’s something less-than-masculine about continuous girlish screams and fleeing. Let’s not forget that he had to first be rescued himself. By a senile, incontinent midget with a magical vacuum cleaner at that. Lanky man-points took a further hit.
But perhaps Luigi is simply the more realistic of the brothers. Where is he during most of Mario’s adventures? Perhaps he’s seen the kind of hazardous hijinks he gets up to, and swiftly concluded balls to that. This isn’t cowardice, this is mere common sense. The green machine got all the intelligence, while Mario is content to dash through a castle laden with lava-traps and assorted nightmarish nasties. Before an ill-advised tangle with a lizard monstrosity whose very teeth are larger than Mario's whole body. (He doesn’t even get any love from Peach for all this. A quick flash, at the very least, should be forthcoming.) Luigi gleefully watches from a safe distance, free from ass-burnings, in a blissful cloud of wimpiness and/or wisdom.
Take another reminiscent romp through the ghost house below:
Article by Chris Littlechild