Veknoid_Outcast said:
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"The mustached man peered through the gloom,
That blanketed the hidden room,
In search of coins; perhaps a 'shroom,
But not of this impending doom.
Footfalls rang on hardened stone,
So cold it chilled him to the bone,
He yearned for but a bit of heat,
That ironically, he was to meet.
He fumbled forward, arms outstretched,
And touched a groove that had been etched,
His finger traced its knotted path,
Unknowing of the blinding wrath.
A flash of light, a sudden roar,
That knocked our hero to the floor,
“Your time as Ghost has just begun,
For we are three, and you are one!”
Blinking spots out of his eyes,
The plumber looked towards the cries,
A monster hunched there like a boulder,
With two friends upon its shoulder.
“Let’s talk this out!” our hero pleas,
Scrambling up onto his knees,
“Is there something I can give,
And in exchange, you let me live?”
He would get no chance to explain,
‘Cause reptiles aren’t known for brain,
The Guido plumber would soon become,
A single, smoking, blackened crumb.
Inferno rages; all is black,
But do not fret, he will be back,
It’s tough to be a spectre when,
You always get to ‘Try Again?’."