Hey there! I'd be happy (and guilty) to ramble about all the exciting new developments in my life that occupy most of my time lately...but I figure you all would rather get to the story, right? Alright, story time it is then!

Episode 3 (Part 1)

Following the departure of another, even the Mole struggled to soar on cloud nine. Hours of provoked division culminated in a red screen for Nastasia, who despite a slurry of emotions, triumphed in one final sacrifice to a group who would never have the chance to extend its thanks. Steadied by a new, painful humility, the group pledged to never allow their own greed or differences to distract them in their unified conquest against the Mole. But with the new distribution of destructive awards and the escalating potential prize money, whose conquest will prove stronger? The players'...or the Mole's?

Previously on The Mole: Paper Mario Edition

"Wait a sec, we're heading to Glitzville?"

Koover: Road trip? Really?

"Players, this is Veronica," Blue introduced, gesturing to the attractive Boo woman.

"Um...dearie, could you hand me the fanny pack?" Ms. Mowz asked as she fumbled for the missing bag.

POP!

Vinny groaned. "Reality check: nobody likes a diva, and nobody here likes that you are one!"

"For the low cost of five thousand coins," Blue said to Pennington as he produced a blimp ticket.

"That price, payable by all three of you...is a minus three."

Nastasia: I'm fairly thick-skinned, but being stuck in the crossfire of verbal attacks like that does dig into me a bit.

Mamar sighed. "You know what, fine. I'll take the penalty."

"You guys walked over three miles today?!"

"If it's worth any consolation, I think it was unfair for you to be targeted like that," Peach said empathetically.

"And it's clear to me that both of you are too smug for reasoning," Dimentio huffed.

"A scrumptious Shroom Steak, served to your degree of wellness."

"Fortunately for you all, we have settled in just in time for the final matches of the evening," Blue announced.

"Wait, are we sure we want to go to the Major League match?" Goombella spoke up.

"Give it up dearie," Ms. Mowz cautioned. "People need to make their own choices."

"...look, you four have fun," Sushie replied flatly. "Today has just been a bit too unruly for my taste."

"Your fellow contestants, from favorite to least favorite."

Koover hesitated. "I'm halfway convinced the magician could be certifiably crazy."

Mamar: I'm really sorry, Nastasia...but if it's worth anything, there's no damage done that can't be repaired.

Pennington: I simply filled it out alphabetically.

"Let's talk this through a bit before we-AAAAH!"

"Player, remove your blindfold."

Sushie: It's embarrassing! And disheartening, really.

"It'll be our little secret," Goombella said to her new prize.

"Consider it...step one," Nastasia explained, clearing the lump in her throat.

N-A-S-T-A-S-I-A

RED

"I guess you're right, Nastasia said, gaining reassurance. "Maybe I'm not as self-withdrawn as I might appear."

Dimentio sighed. "Boy, did I miss you, Natty..."

9 PLAYERS...1 MOLE.

"BANDY" ANDY

SURNAME: Ali

SPECIES: Bandit

BIRTHDAY: November 5

OCCUPATION: Prof. Fighter

DIMENTIO

SURNAME: DeJest

SPECIES: Unknown

BIRTHDAY: October 30

OCCUPATION: Magician

GOOMBELLA

SURNAME: Frankly

SPECIES: Goomba

BIRTHDAY: June 16

OCCUPATION: Archaeologist

KOOVER

SURNAME: Shelldon

SPECIES: Koopa Troopa

BIRTHDAY: May 21

OCCUPATION: Weatherman

BREE "MS. MOWZ"

SURNAME: Mowz

SPECIES: Squeek

BIRTHDAY: December 13

OCCUPATION: Badge Shop Owner

SUSHIE

SURNAME: Cheepkins

SPECIES: Cheep Cheep

BIRTHDAY: April 2

OCCUPATION: Nanny

PENNINGTON

SURNAME: Holmes

SPECIES: Bumpty

BIRTHDAY: February 27

OCCUPATION: Detective

MAMAR

SURNAME: Wishly

SPECIES: Star

BIRTHDAY: November 23

OCCUPATION: Charity Sponsor

PEACH

SURNAME: Toadstool

SPECIES: Human

BIRTHDAY: February 18

OCCUPATION: Politician

VINNY

SURNAME: Pianta

SPECIES: Pianta

BIRTHDAY: March 29

OCCUPATION: Bodyguard

Koover: Well...when any group of strangers convenes for the first time, it's always refreshing to break the ice. Just not when that ice is already violently thin.

Sushie: Today is a chance to start anew. Even with a deceiver in our midst, I'm ultimately the author of my own destiny. And I won't be the one to entertain such individual with my own wallowing. I'm choosing to wake up today with a positive outlook, knowing that I'm still alive and active in this game.

Vinny: Dere's nothing to say. Dis is a game, and da objective is clear. In da syndicate, we're taught dat emotions are squashable. You let dem settle, and you...um...you lose focus.

Dimentio: All of this buzz about apologies is in the air, and for what? Outsmarting your fellow contender? The mercy of the Mole slows down for nobody here, so until that occurs, neither should mine. Not until that hour when that rabbit is out of the hat.

DAY 6

LOCATION: GLITZVILLE

Given the lengthiness of the second execution, Peach found difficulty in stirring from her short slumber that night. She rubbed her eyes and surveyed her sleeping quarters. The covers on the bed across the room were overturned, indicating that Ms. Mowz was probably out venturing that morning. The bed to her right, however, was neatly untouched, which reminded Peach that her roommate from the previous night had not returned to occupy it.

The princess sighed. "A sacrifice not forgotten," she whispered somberly, referencing on the secretary's selfless decision which may have contributed to her elimination.

Peach: I'm still very disappointed by the chain of events that preceded Nastasia's departure. Obviously it's a consequence of her own circumstances, but our health as a group practically set her up to fail, even when she was trying her hardest to find an in. Maybe it's the politician in me that's trying to keep the peace...as ironic as that is in a game such as this, but hey, perhaps our pot can attest that we need a recharge as a group.

Right as she was easing into her slippers, she heard three hard knocks at the door. Figuring that Ms. Mowz had likely forgotten her room key, she didn't hesitate to investigate, but was surprised to discover nobody in the hallway after opening her door. Knowing better than to disregard the sound, Peach glanced down, her eyes quick to discover the white envelope which certainly wasn't a part of the decorative carpeting. After checking quickly to see if her maneuver had been noticed, she returned to the confines of her room.

"Honestly, I'd be okay if Blue actually gave us a break from these missions," she said, somewhat in exhaustion as she collapsed onto her bed. After opening the envelope, however, she found herself promptly sitting up, eyes glued to the words on the protruding paper:

Escaping Execution Game - Clue to the Mole's Identity

Peach: I'd almost forgotten about my reward from the night before! No regrets whatsoever about my decision to snatch it. Who knows how hard it would be to decipher, but just imagining if I do...this could be the make or break for a strong succession of green screens for me.

"Let's not get overzealous, Peach," she coached herself, closing her eyes to prevent the temptation of scanning ahead. "There's no guarantee you'll even glean anything from this. Just appreciate the fact that you possess it." Adopting this new state of mind, she returned her attention to interpreting the contents of her clue:

You're playing a delicate game.

What, you really expect I'll be the easy catch?

I suggest you consider all of these characters.

Maybe you've squeeked by thus far, but let's not forget, this is a hunt, right?

So, to win?

Hold onto that one prime weapon at your disposal very dearly:

Learning to divide your errors from mine.

The new eruption of knocking at the door came more as a shock to Peach, who had been fully absorbed with dissecting this new bit of data. Promptly tucking her prize into the safer confines of her journal, she regathered herself momentarily before addressing this newest visitor. Any further extractable information would have to wait.

"Oh, I hope we didn't wake you!" Mamar immediately apologized upon realizing that the princess was still donning pajamas. "I noticed Ms. Mowz leave earlier, so I figured you'd already be up. May...we come in?"

"By all means," Peach permitted, careful to conceal her journal behind the door as both Mamar and Sushie now joined her in the room. The Cheep Cheep had only taken four cautious steps before promptly flopping down onto the bed, an action which startled the two in her company.

"Tell it to me straight, ladies," Sushie addressed straightforwardly, clutching onto the nearest pillow rather tightly. "Am I honestly that unpleasant to be around?" Peach bit her lip nervously, turning away from her momentarily to catch a sideways glance from Mamar. The Star Spirit had let on enough indication that this was a conversation she had been entertaining for quite a while before entering her room.

Mamar: Emotionally charged...would be an understatement. Maybe I'm in no position to comment, seeing as I was given such a pedestal yesterday, perhaps undeservedly. I've got to be honest, I'm exhausted. And for several pooling factors. Little sleep. Word-slinging. A disheartening execution. And adding to that...my top two suspects have been the first two departed. To describe my head in one word right now, I'd say...everywhere.

Peach took a seat on the bed in between her two morning intruders. "Please remember that number does not represent you whatsoever," she reassured her to her best effort. "That mission was designed to tear us down, but it only works if we buy into that deception. Remember the laughter and fellowship we share at dinners? That's the group I choose to endorse." Sushie sighed, sitting upright to match the postures of her companions.

"Maybe you're right in assuming that for our first days together," she began slowly, "but every layer we peel back of this adventure just reveals this greater degree of nastiness, and it's a taste I really don't care to explore..."

Sushie: Trust me, any of the Yoshis I nanny will happily verify that yes, I am very emotional. Personally I consider it more as authenticity than weakness, but maybe the Mole views it differently. And that's what makes this game so challenging for me. Because nothing here, and perhaps even nobody, is authentic. But that doesn't mean every emotion that gets tested here is manifested.

Mamar nodded understandingly before offering her best smile. "Well, let's remember that all of that nastiness is outside the walls of this room," she said in a happier tone. "Because within just five days, our relationship has upgraded from strangers to friends. And of that I am quite certain." Her smile quickly spread to Peach's face, who took the opportunity to grasp Sushie's fin in her own hand.

"...I mean, I suppose you're both better than naughty Yoshi children," Sushie joked, allowing the smiles to come full circle. The three girls fell back on the bed in a moment of shared laughter-a moment of relief for all three.

The princess's was short lived, however, as she readjusted to avoid her journal digging into her spine. She clutched it tighter, hoping to keep its newest secret secure.

Koover shook his head in amusement as Pennington rose again for a trip to the coffee pot settled on their kitchen's stove. "Here's an enigma for you," he asked as he rolled over in his unmade bed. "What's the fuel source required to generate those detective gears of yours every morning?" Pennington chuckled heartily while unashamedly reaching for a filter.

"It is caffeine," he said, "a seven-drip solution. Would you care to try some?" The detective's eyes twinkled, its effects clearly kicking in. "I assure you, while my wits are always sharp, some days could afford a bit of a jump-start." Then, facing his mirror, his voice faded. "In more ways than one..."

Pennington: Nope, not once has my focus shifted in this game. This Bumpty is still sleuthing to the max and will not cease until the Mole is rightfully revealed by yours truly. But with any successful investigation, it's important to take that step back and survey the scene as a panorama rather than as a still frame. A clear frame of mind is what I could afford right now, which means shoving any distractions to the side. Better to be picture perfect with a clean canvas.

"Trust me, it's my poison of choice too," Koover admitted, rising to pour himself a cup as well. "A necessary addiction if one's to survive those 3:30 wake-up times just to report that, yes, it'll still be sunny today." He allowed the Bumpty to pour the remaining contents of the coffee pot into a fresh mug.

"Well, cheers to you not having to report the meteorological sunshine consistency of a floating land called Glitzville," Pennington cheered, clinking his mug with Koover's and taking a small sip. He quickly retracted his tongue, realizing that the morning beverage was a bit hotter than anticipated.

Koover hid his chuckles behind his own swig, pausing momentarily before setting the mug down on the counter. "Well, if Glitzville can offer me the kinds of treasures like the ones they did last night, I suppose I could look past some occupational dullness." He noticed the nodding of his roommate slow a bit, much to his satisfaction: the word 'treasure' had sparked Pennington's curiosity.

Koover: Who would ever suspect the detective who's so busy suspecting everybody else? Certainly not me, at least for these past two quizzes. But recently I've been following some of the breadcrumbs of sabotage left behind by our inquisitive friend, and the evidence lends to itself. Twenty thousand blown from a puzzle, five thousand for a ticket...and last night, another five thousand when it appears that he glossed over an obnoxiously placed money bag I tried to leave on display. But the best part? Only I know that suspicious event even occurred.

"Come on, you're not the slightest bit curious as to what treasures I'm referring to?" Koover asked, in an attempt to coax a response. "Because truthfully, I'm half-tempted to ask you outright what rewards you may have acquired."

"By all means, you're free to explore my belongings," Pennington offered surprisingly. "I just might have to charge you with illegal search and seizure."

"Ha, well what if I acquired a warrant? Or better yet, what if a mutual disclosure were established? Could possibly even be swayed into an exchange of sorts." Pennington raised his eyebrow, body language suggesting that Koover had struck the right chord.

"Alright, proposal time," he declared with a grin. "I go to my belongings and unveil my prize and at the same moment, you reveal yours. Fair terms and conditions?" Koover nodded willingly and marched back to his corner of the room, taking the casual route across Dimentio's unmade bed to get there. After a few moments of digging to the most deeply tucked pocket of his day pack, his hands located the sole remaining token from the previous night.

"Reveal on three?" he asked, for clarification. Pennington, who was concealing one flipper with the other, agreed. "Alright, one...two...three!" From Koover's right hand, a solitary joker was produced. But from Pennington's flipper came a deceptive surprise: absolutely nothing.

"Oh come on, you're really going to stoop that low?" Koover complained, feeling a bit cheated by the terms of the deal. But Pennington stopped him before he could protest any further.

"Ah, but Mr. Shelldon, there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact," he explained cleverly. "For I did keep up my end of the bargain and can say so with a clean conscience. It would appear that last night, one of us in this room was clever enough to not be sidetracked by the meager temptations, but to put his energy towards mastering that questionnaire. And towards mastering wits just now!" Apparently pleased with himself, Pennington proceeded to flip open his journal towards a clean entry, likely to detail the joker in Koover's possession.

Koover: Clearly not clever enough having bypassed five thousand coins for nothing, if coming from a player. Or...perhaps too clever, if coming from a Mole.

Goombella tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes darting between the clock on the wall in her room and the doors at the end of her hallway. Having the room free to herself after the departure of her roommates, she had made an effort to chat privately with Ms. Mowz before breakfast began. Restlessness prevented her from simply waiting for a knock on the door; instead, she had to poke outside and watch for the arrival with her own eyes.

"Slip me ten coins and I can give you the guided tour," came the voice of Bandy Andy. The bandit hadn't particularly startled Goombella, though his emerging from his own room across the hall complicated her concern over privacy.

"Might I woo an archaeologist with a phenomenon so mesmerizing, it has the power to swallow you whole?" he continued playfully. "I like to call it 'The Man-Eating Toilet'. And speaking of toilets, no need for you to get so flushed!"

"Ug, thanks for that gross reminder," Goombella shuddered, realizing her misadventures with Mario had given her the misfortune of understanding the plumbing nightmare Andy was referring to. "But in all seriousness, would you mind returning to your room for a few minutes? I'm looking to have a confidential conversation with someone."

Bandy Andy gave the Goomba a quizzical look. "Awfully forward and specific for someone with no jurisdiction over this hallway," he spouted, not hesitating to shuffle even closer to her. "Besides, you know me! I always stick my nose in places where it doesn't belong." The toothy grin he offered was hardly of consolation to Goombella, who rolled her eyes in response. Moments later, she became self-aware of her action and immediately resented it.

Goombella: Alright, I'm a Goomba; thick skin's part of our biology. But last night really got to me. Like, I really don't care what the other players think of me...but to be so close to the bottom is a little soul-crushing. Granted, it's not like I was Nastasia, but as far as the others are concerned, were we viewed as one and the same? Maybe that explains why my secret mission was such a flub. And here I thought I was forging the way ahead with the help of old friendships. Namely, Bree. At least, that's what I was determined to find out.

"I'm sure your future girlfriend is going to appreciate that," Goombella jeered playfully. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you don't want to stick around for boring girl talk."

"Why not? I'm never one to refuse an audience." The voice came from Ms. Mowz, who sashayed from the elevator doors. Though the players had not been called down for breakfast yet, the Squeek had managed to get her hands on a powdered donut, whose crumbs were creating a trail down the hallway. "Anything you want to talk to me about doesn't require closed doors. Well, not for me at least."

Goombella appeared somewhat flabbergasted by Ms. Mowz's forwardness. "Well surely some discussions in this game should be confidential. And even outside of this game, personal ones ought to be." She craned her neck towards Bandy Andy, who seemed to enjoy Bree's welcome invitation to linger.

"Dearie, I entertain enough secretive things as it is. I don't think I need to add your request for 'girl talk' to that list," Ms. Mowz explained softly. "But really, if it makes you too flustered-"

"Flustered? Oh come on! No, why would I be..." She paused, realizing the hastiness with which she'd delivered those words. "Okay, so last night's events weren't the easiest. Though I guess you two fared better than most. And for good reason, don't get me wrong! Obviously I marked you down as number one...and, Andy, you were definitely high up on my list as well!"

Bandy Andy: Didja know that Jolene actually had to add the rule 'no meddling' to the fighters' contract, compliments of yours truly? One of my prouder accomplishments, ha ha.

After a few chuckles from the fighter, Goombella readdressed Ms. Mowz. "Maybe I'm just a little paranoid, and perhaps not as self-aware as I imagined...but you and me, we're solid, right?" Rather than face her directly, Ms. Mowz turned to Bandy Andy for an answer, who shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish grin.

"Aw, doesn't seem like Andy's as confident. Maybe we should orchestrate a BFF handshake or something to better perfect our act!" Goombella seemed uncomfortable with this word choice.

"Act? Bree, I was trying to be serious," she said, her tone more concerning. "I've got nothing to worry about with us together in this game, right? And definitely not with last night's mission either?" Ms. Mowz, who'd been inserting her room key into its reader, held it stationary for a few seconds before grasping the doorknob.

"Like you said: it was only a mission." She nodded to both Andy and Goombella before slipping behind the door, closing herself out from the two individuals who'd anticipated a longer conversation. Sensing an appropriate time to depart, Bandy Andy shuffled back to his own room, leaving a dumbfounded Goombella isolated in her own thoughts.

Ms. Mowz: Yeah, I anticipated a reaction like that after hanging up on Blue yesterday. But I recall ranking her third, which should bear little weight on my Goomba colleague landing herself in such an undesirable placement. Given this show is all about reactions, I evaluated my fellow contestants accordingly. But dearie, the fun shouldn't stop there. Perhaps it's better that Goombella targets me as the scapegoat for her folly last night. Namely, if she contributes it towards me being the Mole.

Goombella: So, that really just transpired. Huh. Well, don't I look like the fool now? Maybe I bought into our conversations a bit deeper than I should have. Should have expected someone like Bree to adopt a lone wolf role in this game anyways. But hey, that black exemption in my suitcase is looking a little bit cozier now.

Bandy Andy: What can I say? I suppose I'm a bit of a pyromaniac: when I see fireworks, I chase after them!

It was about a quarter to ten. For a second day in a row, the players were permitted to sleep in before convening for breakfast once again at the Juice Bar. While most of the others were taking advantage of every extra minute, Vinny found himself enjoying a moment of solitude as he sipped on a Keel Mango smoothie.

"Aha, my prediction was correct!" The voice from the entrance came from Dimentio, who acknowledged the lone Pianta and took a seat adjacent to his. "No doubt enjoying an introverted celebration of squashing your adversary at last night's execution!"

Vinny eyed him skeptically before commenting. "You know, I've always been suspicious of anybody who's chipper before da sun's halfway through da sky," he remarked coolly, returning for a second sip of his drink.

"So I'm doubly correct then," Dimentio mused, playfully removing the wrapper from one of the bar straws. "The departure of Nastasia last night isn't nearly as gratifying because it came with the consequential revelation that, like her, you too discovered you were one of the bottom-feeders." As the magician leaned in closer, Vinny groaned, realizing that he could not escape from the morning's button-pushing.

Vinny: I'm happy she's gone. And da circumstances around it don't faze me a bit. I don't care what dat mission was trying to accomplish, because no petty factor like popularity is gonna distract me from da ultimate goal of discovering da Mole. I've always been conditioned ta focus on da boss's needs and concerns, not dose of my own, anyway. So...I'm fine with where I stand. Really.

"You must be bold. Or pretty stupid, if you think you're gonna intimidate me, of all people," he cautioned, going as far as to stand up from his seat just to impose his size a bit more. Dimentio, not one to miss a beat, sprang up on the counter, using the stool he was previously sitting on as a new footrest.

"Hm. Well, you definitely aren't one to view yourself more highly than the others, so what gives with the hard-hitting persona?" he asked, now eye-level with the bodyguard.

"Hey! Excuse me sir, the countertop is for beverages, not butt cheeks," Podler sternly addressed, threatening the magician with a dishrag if he didn't relocate to his stool. Coolly, Dimentio complied.

"As my memory recalls, dere were still two people sitting at da table when I was called ta my quiz, and one of dem was you," Vinny reminded, happy to adopt some leverage over his morning acquaintance as he too returned to his seat. "Surely it wouldn't be a reach to suggest you too might have been rattled by dat revelation."

Dimentio: What, being at the bottom? I barely even noticed. The biggest grabber of my attention last night was not with the position I was placed in, but the person I was placed there with...and her disposition towards me.

"Only thing you're reaching is an impasse," Dimentio rebutted. "I'm certainly used to receiving negative reviews from critics in my line of work, or entertaining boos from audiences. But that's simply because they anticipate a performer like myself to cater to their expectations. Or caliber, for a better word." He smiled at Podler, who begrudgingly handed him a menu.

"I imagine dat doesn't bode terribly well for you," Vinny remarked. "I think it's fair to say dat you've created your own reputation for yourself in dis game. And I think you're aware dat it's not the sunniest."

Dimentio nodded, acknowledging these words as he continued playing with his straw. "I don't believe you're following. People don't recognize their subconscious fixation with a villain. As a magician, I'm often painted as such, if only because people find entertainment in being deceived, yet contradict themselves when they disfavor their position as the tricked." He set down his menu so he could face Vinny directly.

"But my namesake isn't 'pleaser of crowds' for nothing," he said in cheerful defense. "By the end of a show, I'm back to standing ovations. And it's because I anticipate their initial lack of admiration, so I entice them with an even greater spectacle, and its their temptation for more fascinating stunts that brings their veneration full circle." The wide grin on Dimentio's face prompted a frown from Vinny, who just gave the jester a firm pat on the back as a signal that the conversation no longer interested him.

"Easy there, cowboy," said Dimentio slyly. "The game we're playing is worlds apart from a simple magic routine. You have to realize that the people around you are readily searching for who to paint as their reproachful vignette. Possibly someone who maintains a tough presence and shies away from company."

"Whatever. I believe dat position's already been taken by da Mole," Vinny huffed. He turned his head as he heard the chimes jingle at the store's entrance. To his fortune, a trio of girls from their party had arrived, signalling a soon start to their communal breakfast. Before he could welcome them, however, Dimentio took a moment to whisper something in his ear.

"Careful now. People will forgive a Mole for doing their job, but their impression of an outcast could be permanent." With that, he leaned back, settling himself properly on a stool as he waved at their new acquaintances for the morning, leaving Vinny in silence to replay these words in his head.

Breakfast, better considered as brunch given the time of day, was relatively uneventful. Table talk that morning was less lively than the typical discourse which transpired in most previous meals. Last night had dragged on, both in hours and in turmoil, and it seemed that calmer conversation settled better for most players. As a group of ten, their size had not dwindled substantially, though the absences of both Parakarry and Nastasia were still subtly evident. Most absent, however, had been the presence of their host.

"Ah, good morning everyone!" Blue shouted gleefully as he bustled through the Juice Bar doors. The Toad was visibly sweating, but the most startling feature of his appearance was his attire. The players were used to their host's wardrobe consisting of expensive suits and tuxedos, but today they stared in awe as he donned a teal tank top and blue gym shorts. To add to the surprise, a pair of boxing gloves with a 1-UP Mushroom insignia covered both of his hands. Needless to say, everyone was caught off guard.

Ms. Mowz: Mm hm hmm! I'm definitely a fan of this fitness-conscious Blue Toad! Let me know where to drop off my resume if he's searching for a spotter.

"What gives, Blue? I didn't know you boxed," Bandy Andy said, his voice hinting at some admiration. "And no bruises either! Wonder what the other guy looks like."

Blue immediately laughed. "Oh no, not to worry. My opponent was merely a sandbag. Just a simple morning workout to improve some cardiovascular fitness. I recommend each one of you keeps up with your exercise; don't rely on your panic hunt for the Mole as the only cause that makes you sweat." Conscious of his own perspiration, he wiped his forehead before continuing his address to the group.

"Players, how about a mission to start your day?" Blue stated, abruptly interrupting the mealtime flow of forks scraping against plates. This reveal by the host garnered everyone's attention, bringing an end to any discussion which had preceded.

"Figured as much," Sushie said with a sigh. "I don't suppose you'll ever give us a day off. Even just a morning would be a pleasant treat, especially given all the stress you concocted for us last night." Everyone at the table readily agreed with her, but nevertheless drew their focuses away from their meals.

"Oh, cheer up!" said Blue in an upbeat manner. "Don't forget that it's the Mole who creates the chaos in this game; I'm simply your guide! And as your guide, I will agree that you poor players have endured many a tense moment over the past few days, and for that I believe you should be rewarded!"

Dimentio shook his head. "Rewarding...like how last night was supposed to spur rewards? Let's be candid, when you keep reeling us in with these pellucid lures, we become less likely to be hooked by your words."

"Aw, it is neither here nor there for me to weigh on whether you made the most of your opportunity to plunder last night," Blue rebutted sharply. "But enough about that. I figure it's a mighty good time for you players to finally experience the grandest feature Glitzville has to offer: the matches, of course!"

Goombella remained skeptical, apparently noting some contradiction in the host's words. "Um, not to burst your bubble, Blue, but I'm pretty sure we already explored that as a part of my secret mission the other night. And we all know how fantastically that turned out." As Blue merely grinned, Peach took a moment to size up the Toad's appearance.

"While it's true we did attend some of these matches, our role was merely as spectators," she elucidated. "And given how you popped in donning boxing gloves and all, perhaps we should infer that today's mission should involve fighting...more directly?"

Blue clapped his hands in excitement. "A very correct deduction!" he praised. "It's no wonder you're more than just our princess. Perhaps I should step out of the ring and surrender my Champion's belt to you! Well, champion of hosting at least." Peach's eyes widened as he tossed his boxing gloves at her, with Bandy Andy managing to intercept one.

"Maybe that's a title better suited for you," Peach chuckled nervously. "Assuming you're capable of explaining our mission to us, that is."

"How about a question for the crowd, first," Blue proposed. "Players, I would like for you all to select the one player whom you would consider to be your strongest fighter." At first, nobody spoke up, but within seconds all eyes were turned towards the one laughing individual in the bunch.

Bandy Andy: Ha! A role that's right up my alley! Time to show this group just how great a punch I'm packing.

"Hold your applause, one and all. I know it's a tough pool, but I'll humbly accept this opportunity." He raised his hand to indicate to the host that he was volunteering on behalf of the group. Their response was overwhelmingly contradictory to his expectations.

"Whoa there, dis is not happening a second day in a row," Vinny immediately cautioned. "You're always da first to volunteer before dere's even been time ta process."

"Oh come on, how could the choice not be more obvious?" Andy protested. "He's even asking it while we're in Glitzville! Let's bring home that moolah, baby!"

"Remember last night," Mamar said softly.

Mamar: Following Nastasia's execution, we discussed as a team what it would take to act as a unified front moving forward, in order to not have anyone leave this adventure under such negative circumstances. We figured this mindset would be easier to establish now, when the Mole is outnumbered nine to one, but with this batch of personalities, I'm less optimistic. My best contribution might be to just keep silent at times like these.

"Let's have civility above all else," Pennington agreed. "Would anyone care to nominate someone for the role, with trustworthy rationale?" Once again, Bandy Andy's hand shot up, though with conveyed irritation.

"Uh, yeah. I nominate myself. For obvious reasons being that, oh I dunno, I'm a literal Glitz Pit champion?"

Ms. Mowz sighed at this display. "Not to put a damper on your ego, dearie, but there's a few tiers between champion and minor leaguer," she remarked as politely as possible. "Not to suggest you couldn't bruise any brutes, but perhaps our strongest contender is someone whose tussles involve...gangsters and criminals, not glittered men in leotards." It took a few seconds for Vinny to realize she was referring to him, and none at all for Bandy Andy to respond.

"Okay, definitely uncalled for," he pouted. "So what if Vinny's biceps have more muscle mass than mine? I actually have the charisma factor that comes from, you know, literally being a fighter here."

"Mmm...Blue's descriptor was 'strongest' though, not 'showiest'," Dimentio pointed out. "Though Blue's words are as reliable as a cocktail umbrella in a hurricane, I'm also inclined to vouch for Vinny on this one."

Sushie refused the boxing gloves which had made its way around the group. "This mission's already making me apprehensive. As long as I'm not our nominee." She quickly transferred the gloves to Vinny's unsuspecting hands.

"Well Vinny, have you any interest in the role?" Peach asked the stoic Pianta directly.

"I mean, if dat's what you all figure is best, den I'd be down. I'd...yeah, I'd definitely be down for it." He scratched the back of his neck cautiously, though his face seemed perkier than usual.

Vinny: Alright, rare bit of tough-guy persona about ta be broken down, so take advantage of it. I grew up watching dose Glitz Pit battles on da TV any chance I got, studied all of dere moves. But I could never afford a blimp ticket to see my childhood heroes, so da next best thing was ta continue with da syndicate and train as a bodyguard for da Don himself. Just being here has exceeded my wildest expectations, but da chance ta fight maybe? Talk about a dream!

"Whoa, we're just ignoring me now?" Bandy Andy spat, his frustrations increasing. "Come on, it's not like you don't even know what I do for a living, you all got a taste just the other night!"

"Um, not to be blunt, but yesterday's match-up in the basement didn't exactly showcase Glitzville's finest," Goombella trailed. At this point speechless, Bandy Andy could do nothing but stare up and down the table. His eyes eventually landed on an individual who had remained unusually silent since the conclusion of breakfast.

Koover fidgeted in his seat. "I...um, I think it might be worth letting Vinny have a shot at it. At least this time..." He mustered a supportive smile, but the look on the Bandit's face suggested utter betrayal.

Koover: I have no doubts that he's exceptional at what he does, but with only the Minor League performance I witnessed the other night to base it on...well, it didn't exactly inspire much confidence. Besides, we both have our eyes on Vinny, so it's worth seeing how he performs in a solo role, right? At the time I figured I could reassure Bandy Andy of my logic later, but based on his reaction I think that's going to be a much tougher sell.

"Unbelievable," Bandy Andy said somewhat dismally. "Well the jury's reached their verdict, so I guess I concede. But let it be known I'm very disappointed about it." Mamar patted his shoulder sympathetically, which quickly prompted him to move to the other side of the Juice Bar.

"...well, glad we've finally reached a peaceful conclusion!" Blue said in cheerful sarcasm. "Now I understand why four of you arrived late the other day, given the velocity at which you reach trivial decisions such as this one." Many were shocked by this bold statement from the host, who proceeded nonetheless as he motioned for Vinny to stand next to him.

"Before I explain the purpose behind your nomination," he began, "I wanted to share with you a few statistics about this magical floating city. Every year, hundreds of thousands of tourists throng this levitating melee utopia. The Glitz Pit itself hosts hundreds of match-ups annually, highlighting the rise to superstardom for some and devastating defeats for others. The money earned from each contest, through tickets, VIP passes, concessions, and gambling can surge into coinage far above any amount you all could hope to earn."

"Yikes. We know our winning streak has been a bit poor, but no need for such harsh honesty," Pennington said with a nervous chuckle.

Blue bowed his head. "Perhaps the harsher honesty is realizing how much hard work goes unnoticed in orchestrating every Glitz Pit match-up. Luckily, Glitzville has some of the finest folks serving on the production team, ensuring every facet of such a technical operation goes off without a hitch. To thank our marvelous hosts, we found it only fitting that we offer them the day off today...and volunteered you all to take their places!" Intrigue swept down the bar quite rapidly.

"Ooh, this sounds like fun," Peach responded positively. "Though I think you'd better keep explaining before our imaginations get the best of us." She glanced at Sushie, whom she could tell was already jumping to conclusions in her head.

"At 7 o'clock this evening, the grandiose doors of the Glitz Pit will open for tonight's sole match-up, and you all will be responsible for delivering a show that will have audiences roaring. The money you raise will all be donated to a local charity, though it will also denote the amount you all will receive as your prize winnings for this mission, up to 10,000 coins in total." The players' eyes widened at this number.

Goombella: This mission would be unique in that we'd actually be earning our prize money by hand. Up to this point the value is just a distant number mentioned by Blue, but tonight we could be holding thousands of coins in literal cash! I can hear my student loan debt wimpering at the thought...

"Every one thousand coins you earn will automatically be added to your pot," Blue elaborated, "and multiplied by three, for a potential 30,000 coins in total." Everyone seemed generally pleased by this announcement, but some questions remained unanswered.

"This money can be earned in a variety of ways, the most obvious means being through ticket sales. Thus, you'll want to raise enough awareness about tonight's match-up so that the arena itself isn't echoing with silence. You'll also be responsible for operating concessions throughout the match, which can add of course add to your total. But of course, the greatest cash depot...is the betting booth." The sinister manner in which these words rolled off his tongue succeeded in stirring the desired amount of animosity.

Sushie: Ooh dear...fighting and gambling? Already two strikes for me, or whatever the terminology is.

"Before I clarify further, keep in mind you are responsible for facilitating all aspects of tonight's match, including the more technical elements such as lighting and emceeing. The only tasks which will be beyond your responsibilities will be judging and refereeing the match. However, you'll want to deliver a rousing performance, for any individual who wishes to leave the match prematurely will nullify the ticket money you would have earned from them." He paused to clear his throat.

"Tonight will be a traditional six-round boxing match. Each attendee will have the opportunity to bet on tonight's winner between the two competitors. If your team's fighter wins tonight's combat, you'll earn all money that was wagered in their favor. If however, your fighter loses the match, you'll earn none of the money wagered by fans, meaning all potential prize earnings must be gained from other means."

The length of their mission's rules took time to process, and Pennington was the first to speak up. "Clarifying question time," he pardoned. "If we're trying to solicit bets for Vinny, do we know who he will be combating against?"

Blue chuckled, realizing his own oversight. "I believe you have a few details reversed," he explained lightly. "For it is not your group's fighter that Vinny has been nominated for, but your rival. One of you will be tasked to fight him for money tonight, whereas Vinny here will be fighting for an entirely different cause...an exemption."

"Oh, of course!" Ms. Mowz laughed as the shock wave spread throughout the room. "I reckon somebody here has some colleagues to thank for that." While everybody processed the revelation of the new exemption, two reactions contrasted the most.

Vinny: I was in complete awe. I was just excited at first ta maybe live out a childhood fantasy of mine, but ta do so for a free pass? Even sweeter!

Bandy Andy: I was still trying to pick up the shattered remains of my ego from where it had been knocked to the floor, but that blow would be the toughest to recover from. That exemption was practically willed to me and somehow I found myself utterly robbed.

"Anyhoo, I've chewed your ear off long enough now...an illegal maneuver I highly discourage, mind you," Blue said with a chuckle at his witty reference. "You have approximately eight hours now before it's officially showtime. And you, good sir, have some training to do." The Toad quickly plucked his boxing gloves from where they had settled on the counter and, thrusting them into Vinny's hands, motioned for the Pianta to follow him out. The remaining nine individuals were left to fend for themselves.

"Well...game time," Koover surmised, being the first one to rise. Everyone shared an unspoken realization to leave breakfast and trudge to the Glitz Pit, where they could only anticipate the Mole would offer up a dazzling performance.

For the third time this game, the doors to the Glitz Pit were unveiled once more to the players. Only this time, the arena imposed a different impression than it had during last night's dinner and the prior evening's Major League match. Though void of lights and drama at the present moment, their imaginations whirred at the transformation that would await them.

"Somehow this building seems more massive than it did before," Mamar remarked as she surveyed the rows of stands which surrounded the perimeter. Everyone immediately began to spread out before being rallied onstage by Ms. Mowz's whistle.

"We can sniff out the leftover popcorn crumbs later, dearies," she reprimanded playfully as the group convened. "We've got a lot of preparations to make to get the masses to come bet on our Bandit." She winked at the individual she was referring to, who instantaneously about-faced.

"Oh, isn't this juicy," Bandy Andy said with a visible smirk. "Somehow just twenty minutes ago, the professional fighter isn't qualified enough to be designated to take the ring, but now that we need someone that's theoretically second-tier, my experience suddenly has merit?" He laughed to himself, more out of annoyance than humor.

"Ahhhh...perhaps it's better the wallower hangs up his gloves today," Dimentio chimed in. "We aren't lacking suitable substitutes. Stage presence is second nature to me, plus our beloved princess has some boxing under her belt as well, does she not?" Peach gave him a quizzical look before memories flooded back to her.

"Oh, if you're referring to my participation in the Rio Olympics, that event was hardly my forte," she admitted, quick to downplay her skill set. "Besides, it's clear to everyone that Andy would like to compete, so even better that he'll be representing us, right?" The Bandit let out a huff, choosing to ignore the rise of new role assignment debate. Koover bit his lip as he watched the tension displayed by his coalition partner with concern.

Pennington: He's the youngest lad in the group and his attitude can certainly demonstrate that. But most times he has a tiff he's pretty dependable about bouncing back to his upbeat, scheming self. Perhaps there's something more to be read about this particular episode? Like a foiled plan at sabotage, hm?

"Hey, look on the bright side!" Mamar said with a smile. "You could be the group's hero today. You already know how to box so it's not like you have to learn it from scratch, plus you know how these matches typically run and can give us some coaching on how to make sure we perform our roles effectively. Right everyone?"

"...sure," he muttered softly. "If you guys decide to accept my input with more than a grain of salt, I'll be hitting it off with a sandbag for the next few hours." He side-shuffled past the others, facing only the Pit's grand doors as he made his grand exit. Goombella mouthed the word 'wow' to the others as she heard the slam of bronze against its hinge.

"Let's just give him a little space," Koover proposed. "We've got plenty of time before he'll have to fight for money anyways. Bigger matters involve brainstorming how to orchestrate said fight." The others nodded in general consensus.

Feeling ambitious, Goombella paced over to a spot situated just underneath the jumbo-tron. "Okay, let's make a list of things we need to accomplish before the brawl tonight, and one for the roles we'll need to occupy while the melee's happening. Blue mentioned a lot of positions that would be necessary to pull off, but I can't help to imagine there's probably some he's withheld."

"Obviously advertisement is going to be an immediate need," Peach remarked. "Though hopefully Glitzville tourists will already be inclined to attend seeing as there isn't another match today to entertain them." Goombella nodded, adding that to a mental checklist of needed tasks to complete.

"If we can figure out how to reproduce posters like the ones plastered throughout the lobby," Pennington interjected, "that'd be the bee's knees. I reckon that ought to be the first mystery we try to solve."

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Ms. Mowz voiced pretty stolidly. "There's bound to be a printer somewhere in this building, if we're to consider how frequently rankings matches happen around here. I'll bet there's some security guard out there we could fancy up to for a few copies."

"Pretty sure if we're running the show today, we'll have access without having to resort to such... vampish tactics," Goombella said with a tinge of disdain. "I mean, everybody's gone today, right? Should just be a matter of locating, creating, and distributing."

"Wait a second," Sushie said concernedly. "Does that mean we have no security whatsoever to keep control of the crowd tonight?" Her eyes widened somewhat, but to her relief it appeared everyone shared equal consternation.

"Ah, but fear not milady," cooed Dimentio. "Remember we have a bodyguard in our midst...that is, until we sent him off to boxing school." The realization quickly spread to everyone that the qualifications that had been bestowed to Vinny were benefits they'd be unable to exploit.

Sushie: Give me a handful of spoiled, meddlesome Yoshi kids scheming about a lava monster: I have the stress wrinkles to prove I know how to wrangle them. A stadium of rowdy, violence-promoting spectators? Well above my pay grade, thank you.

"Alright, new point of order," Goombella said, rearranging her mental checklist. "How do we amass enough attendance without compromising safety?"

"Couldn't hurt to lose the booze I suppose," Pennington suggested, blushing a little as he recalled having made a few trips himself the night prior to last. "Whatever clouds our best judgments might best be kept beyond the reach of whatever judgments come from the kinds of fans we're anticipating."

"Oh right, concessions!" Goombella exclaimed, her gaze shifting towards a vendor cart on the upper level. "We also need to figure out how we're going to feed hundr-"

"Simmer, dearie," Ms. Mowz instructed, staring down the fast-speaking Goomba. "We get that there's a lot to focus on today, but if you're going to take charge of it, best to tackle things one at a time." Mouth agape, Goombella began to speak, but decided against it.

Goombella: There it was again. It's like somehow, every time I speak up in the group, Ms. Mowz is there to hamper my efforts. Which just blows my mind because I was almost at a point of letting my guard down with her, only to discover she's putting up her own barriers. Like, what is her strategy?

"Um, backpedaling to security concerns," Koover spoke up, redirecting the flow of conversation. "I know as a parent that my kids would love something like this, especially with all the energy they never seem to run out of. What if we advertise it as a family-friendly event? People are bound to be more civilized when there's children present."

Mamar echoed this sentiment. "Aw, I like that idea! Plus more kids means more revenue from concessions. Ooh, and maybe we could like an autograph session before the match? Er, just an idea." She shrugged her shoulders, seemingly indifferent to her own suggestions. As the dialogue continued without her, Peach turned to face the Star Spirit.

"You know, I think this mission's more up your alley than it might be Andy's," she encouraged. "This is basically one giant charity event after all. I think your experience could hold a lot of value today!"

"Oh no, they're really just ideas," Mamar excused, quick to brush it off. "There's a lot of other voices that probably have just as good of insight as I could provide."

"They'd respect them though," Peach assured her. "It wasn't for false reason that people marked you so high on your favorites list, you know?" She mulled these words over in her head, torn as she watched Koover sprint up the steps towards the concessions stand while Pennington proceeded at a slower pace towards the technical booth.

Mamar: I'm usually pretty satisfied with letting other people take on the leadership roles in this game, and in life. With lots of stronger players in this group, it's honestly easier to just provide support here or there but let somebody else take the reigns when it comes time to making decisions. I'm still wrestling to piece together what I've done to deserve the esteem from the others, and whether it's actually justified.

"How's the food situation looking up there?" Ms. Mowz called out from the stage, cupping her hands over her mouth to amplify her voice throughout the arena. Koover made quick search of the kitchen area, opening up fridges and pantry cupboards to make an inventory of the items in stock. The Koopa let out a chuckle as he uncovered a surplus of hot dog buns in the cabinets, but a lesser quantity of frankfurters in the freezer.

"Unless everyone in this down is on an anti-Atkins diet, I think we're gonna need to find some more dogs and patties today," Koover analyzed. "Drinks, candy and popcorn all look fine, though."

"Ahem. In addition to solving that sausage crisis, we may need to learn a new language," Pennington voiced plainly. Puzzled, Sushie decided to visit him in the tech box. Upon arrival, she quickly realized what he was referring to. The room itself mimicked a mission control setup suitable for a space launch, with monitors littering both the ceiling and tabletops. Lighting boards with dozens of switches were strewn across every desk, as wires led to a variety of stereos, microphones and LED displays. From the booth, the two could observe the cluster of players on stage from numerous vantage points.

"Good gracious," she gaped as she surveyed the room. "This is almost more unsettling than being on stage!" She faced Pennington, who steadily reached for his magnifying to take a closer look at one of the sound boards.

From back on stage, Dimentio let out out a small chortle. "Oh what a day indeed when simple objects like DMX cables and patch cords create a mass panic." He got even more amusement watching Pennington pop out of the tech box, magnifying glass still lifted to his eye.

"Awfully suspicious lingo to be floating around there," he said inquisitively. "You're telling me, without yet seeing it, this room isn't a foreign world to you?" From his convex lens, the detective noted the jester wink back at him.

"Ah ha ha, the methods of this magician are off-limits for your ears," Dimentio trilled. "But knowing a thing or two about about spotlights and acoustics certainly never hurts when you're performing an illusion."

Dimentio: Like the good little school girl that I am, I'd been doing my best to sit back and observe these sensationalized players for any brewing sabotage as they confidently set the gears in motion for this mission's festivities. Though never one to shy from a spotlight, I'm lucky that all the world's still a stage for me. What better way to observe for the Mole when you can point all the cameras their way?

"So making sure all of our bases are covered," Goombella backtracked. "We've addressed advertisements, concessions, and tech stuff. Ticket sales and betting won't need to happen until we open up shop. So...that just leaves finding an emcee, right?" It only took a matter of seconds before Mamar perked up enthusiastically.

"Peach! Why don't you officiate the fight?" This nomination caught the princess by surprise, but she politely allowed Mamar to continue.

"We could make a promotional bid out of it, too! I bet we'd get a ton of spectators to attend if we list Peach's name as the announcer on our posters, moreso than we might if we don't." Peach clutched her brooch as she processed this unexpected proposition.

Peach: Having just pitched to her to take more of a leadership role, it was my last intention to dismiss the idea simply out of my own apprehensions. But it does make me somewhat uncomfortable to use my position for selfish gains like that. Knowing that we'd be indirectly supporting charity through this mission did help alleviate some of that concern, but that was quickly replaced by my own perceived ineptitude for what the position might entail.

"Maybe for one round, at least," she answered calmly. "We definitely don't have to lock down an emcee just yet, which is for the better because I'm definitely not up to speed on much of the rules, regulations, and expectations yet."

"At the very least, I believe we have a good start, no?" Ms. Mowz asked, which prompted no outcry from the others. "In that case, let's bring it back together and determine who's headed where to start off the day."

Within three minutes, the players had split up preparation duties for the match and began to part on their separate paths towards accomplishing them. Meanwhile, in the basement just below them, the camera panned to a green Bandit dragging a purple sandbag behind him along the concrete floor. With a spurt of exhalation and strength, he hoisted the punching bag and latched it onto a stand-up mount. Grinning, he used his teeth to close the velcro strap on one of his boxing gloves, thus readying for the practice that laid in store for him.

"We'll see who's glitzier," Bandy Andy muttered to himself, just before delivering his first jab at the bag.

Despite an abundance of questions whirring through his head, Vinny elected to stay quiet as he followed Blue past the Glitz Pit lobby and through several corridors of the building. The Pianta was somewhat surprised by how fast Blue's shorter legs seemed to carry him down each hallway, whereas he found himself nearly breaking a sweat just to keep up. Eventually, the two arrived at a brown door, a notably different color than the white doors which all led to various locker rooms.

"Suppose now'd be an appropriate time ta ask what's expected of me today," he voiced, also using the opportunity to try on one of Blue's boxing gloves-which, to no surprise, didn't fit his gargantuan hands.

"Don't you already know?" Blue asked him, confused. "Obviously, it'd be a terrible bore to throw you into the ring with no knowledge of how to properly compete. Lucky for you, we've arranged for some private lessons with a coach to help you warm up before this evening." Vinny stared at him oddly as the host knocked three times on the door before them.

Vinny: It seemed like a time-waster at first. I mean, I know I could lay off on da papayas some and need ta work on my cardio a lot more, but I've definitely got da brute strength ta square off pretty well, maybe with a little support on technique. But dat thought faded pretty fast when I saw who I'd be working with.

"Hey there champ! You ready to feel the RAWK!?" The door opened to a buff, yellow bird with flowing blonde hair, an individual who left Vinny feeling immediately star-struck.

Blue began the introductions. "In case you aren't familiar, Vinny, we've arranged for you to be working with-"

"Rawk Hawk? Believe me, dis guy needs no introduction!" he burst, quick to offer a handshake to the champion. "Boy, what an honor dis is! I've been cheering you on from Rogueport for years!"

"Hey, easy there. You do what you can for charity, right?" Rawk Hawk explained with a chuckle. He took a moment to size his prodigy's appearance.

"Firm handshake, bulky build...gotta say Blue, you did good here. Was afraid you'd send me some wimp to entertain. Though the business suit and grass skirt have gotta go." Vinny let out a nervous laugh, a bit embarrassed as he evaluated his own wardrobe.

"Just simply doing my job," Blue explained. "But I've dilly-dallied long enough. Those calories won't be burning themselves!" With a humble farewell nod, he retrieved his personal boxing gloves and whistled a tune as he left the two, presumably to return to his own workout. Having been distracted by his introduction to the Glitzville legend, Vinny became aware for the first time that he'd been brought to the champion's private suite and training room, whose quality far surpassed that of the room they'd taken their execution quiz the previous night.

"Don't worry, we'll find you something to wear that you'll rawk the house with tonight," Rawk Hawk reassured him. "Not sure of how much your host filled you in on, but I've been hired to function as your trainer for all of today. That includes both the practice I'll be making you sweat through today, as well as supporting you while you're in the ring tonight. I'll be honest, a standard boxing match is pretty low-grade on the Rawk-o-meter, but I'm here to help make sure you're fit to knock your opponent's undies off! Metaphorically speaking." He excused himself as he disappeared into his closet before coming out with a pair of notably larger gloves.

"Try those on for size," he said, quickly tossing them to Vinny. "Then let's step over to that sandbag and I'll walk you through some of the basic punching and dodging maneuvers."

"Just wait 'til da others get a load of this," Vinny mused as he obliged his temporary coach's requests. But the bodyguard found himself hesitating some as he squeezed his hands into the gloves, a delay which Rawk Hawk picked up on.

"Hey...palm tree!" Rawk called out sheepishly, having already forgotten his student's name. "I've got a few rules to abide by, but I've got no tolerance for fear! Trust me, I wouldn't be wearing this champ's belt without being ruthless. You have to want to make your opponents cower and cry for their mommies when you enter that ring! It's as they say, the biggest hero is everybody's villain."

"Dat's actually da only thing I fear..." Vinny's voice trailed. Realizing the Rawk Hawk hadn't heard his mumbling, he hopped up and joined his coach by the speed bag, his mind racing faster than the rapid-fire punches Rawk Hawk was demonstrating.

Vinny: Dat exemption was sounding so sweet, as was da opportunity in store for getting it. But as much as I didn't want ta admit it, I still had a sour taste in my mouth about the prospect, and da consequences doing so might have on my place in dis group. I brush dere words off my shoulders with no hesitation, but still, da idea of being brandished as a villain isn't exactly a role I was planning to execute when I signed my contract. Can't help but feel dat dere's a lot more at stake when it comes to winning tonight. Time will only tell.

Behold, the start of a new mission! One that's absolutely necessary if the players are to be visiting Glitzville, of course. Perhaps a bit of a violent one, nonetheless...hopefully the players are able to fare well before the Mole knocks them out!

BRITTKIP: Glad your situation's improving! Loved reading through your astute character analyses! Also nice to read that someone shows some love to poor Nastasia haha. She definitely got the short end of the stick a few times in this game, partly from her own actions and partly from circumstances beyond her control. But just because the Mole bested her doesn't mean she didn't walk away stronger. Also, do I suspect a Pennington/Sushie shipping? Guess we'll have to see how things transpire in this game!

PRINCESS TOADY:Great hearing from you as always my friend! Allow me to take a moment to apologize: I've been away from this site for quite a while, and I still owe you a slew of reviews (and a PM response! Shame on me haha). Thank you as always for your kind words! And yes! Was a personal success of mine to make Nastasia leave likable! In regards to her backstory with Dimentio, I didn't develop it too much, but knowing how the events of Super Paper Mario unfolded, it's not too much of a reach to understand the tension Nastasia already presented towards him at the start of the game. Also, feel free to mimic/manipulate the execution mission if you'd like, as long as you don't mind leaving credit for the original idea. Could this mean the hopes of seeing a season 3 sometime soon? Which through thick and thin I'll absolutely be following? Pretty please?

SHADOW OF DIMENTIO:Haha oh gosh, that pun for the Count was purely coincidental. I tend to make the chapter titles reflective of the location the players are at, but somehow my attempt at a fighting reference held a brilliant double meaning! As always, love reading your views on each character (Parakarry included). You have a very keen method of evaluating each one and even pick up on some of the smaller nuances too. Goodness, awfully early to be banishing the players to the Underwhere, don't you think? I suppose we'll enjoy Glitzville a little while longer before we dare to fall that far from the sky haha.

Thank you all, as always, for your support and for continuing to visit this story! With things clearing up some, I'm anticipating some faster updates in store, so keep your eyes peeled for more Mole chapters to come! And of course, if you liked what you read or are bursting with suspicions, drop a review! Ciao for now!