Warning: spoilers for multiple Sagas.
Note: read “Cleo and Julius” and “Happy Fluffy Daycare” first.
You’re a fluffy.
Your name is Wario.
You have purple fluff, a yellow mane and tail, and green see-places. You’ve got a hownie too.
Your life didn’t start out on a good note.
You were born with your bwuddahs and sissies in an awwey-way, but you only know this because you’ve been told that.
You couldn’t see when you were first born, after all.
And when you were still a no-see chirpy babbeh, a scary thing happened.
Three bad hoomins tried to hurt your daddeh and mummah, and you and your bwuddahs and sissies too.
But then two good hoomins saved all of you, and brought your famiwy to a safe place called the Fown-day-shun.
A few days later, after you had opened your see-places, one of the good hoomins came back, and helped your mummah give you and your bwuddahs and sissies namesies.
Your daddeh was still having his owwies fixed at the time.
“Oh ho! Look at those colors! I’ve got the perfect name in mind: Wario. And I can probably get a little yellow cap and a fake mustache too…”
Neither you nor your mummah knew what he was talking about until he came back again later.
Since then, you’ve been happy with your new hatsie and fake face fluff.
A while after that, your hoomin friend came back, with good news!
He wanted to be your hoomin daddeh!
“You’re gonna love it at my place, Wario. And our other fluffies are gonna love you. Poor Snowball started crying when I told my fluffies about what happened to your family.”
“Su nyu daddeh haf udda fwuffies? Chirp.”
You were still chirping a bit at the time. It stopped a short while later.
“Oh yeah, quite a few. And I love all of 'em. I’ll love you just as much.”
“Wawio wub nyu daddeh! Wah!”
You say “wah” sometimes.
You don’t know why.
But it just feels right.
Since then, you’ve had a very happy life.
Your hoomin daddeh and mummah can both do amazing things, but they do different amazing things.
And some of your fluffy saferoommates can do amazing things, too.
When the dawk times get a bit chilly, all the fluffies form a fluffpile around Marley, who can cover himself with buwnies.
Marley, your daddeh, and your hoomin bwuddah can make buwnies that don’t give anyone buwnie owwies. This blew your fluffy little mind.
Your daddeh had to tell you that this doesn’t mean all buwnies are safe.
But Marley’s are nice and warm.
A few bwite times after you went home with your new daddeh, something odd happened.
He was in the kit-chin, making nummies, and you smelled something strange.
You pointed up at a round whiteish nummie with a pointy thing on top. Your daddeh was cutting another one up.
“Wut kinna nummies am dat, daddeh?”
“Oh, this? It’s called garlic, Wario.”
You remembered that smell, from back when you lived in the awwey-way. You couldn’t see back then, but you could smell, and you liked that smell, for reasons you couldn’t explain.
So when a piece of the gaw-wik fell on the floor…
“Whoops. Wait, what are you–”
“um num num num”
You nummed it.
“Wario, are you seriously eating raw garlic?”
You actually liked the taste.
And you had made a decision.
“Yus. An Wawio wan sum mowe. Wah.”
“…You crazy S.O.B., Wario.”
You don’t know what an S.O.B. is. You’re assuming it’s a compliment.
That dawk time, you had to sleep away from the other fluffies.
You didn’t know that numming gaw-wik makes your breath smell not-pretty.
But, again, you like the smell.
Sometimes, your daddeh goes on a mish-un, and this makes you saddies.
Because you love your daddeh, and you’re always worried he won’t come back.
He takes Marley with him, and sometimes your mummah and Snowball too.
This makes you even more worried.
But you’re always relieved when they do come back.
And your daddeh and mummah know lots of nice hoomins who can take care of the rest of you while they’re gone, and your hoomin bwuddah Quin. And now, your hoomin sissie Roxie too.
Like Nanny, your daddeh’s gwamma.
She’s very nice, and she knows a lot of funny songs.
Like the one she sang for you when your daddeh, mummah, Marley and Snowball were on a mish-un to a place called Pwimaw Uwf.
“The hedgehog can never be buggered at all!”
You know what a hedgehog is. It’s one of those little spikey munstahs. And your daddeh plays a lot of vee-dee-yoh games about a blue hedgehog. But you’ve never seen a blue one in real life.
What you don’t know is what “buggered” means.
And when you asked your daddeh after the mish-un, he wouldn’t tell you.
“I told Nanny not to sing that song around you guys. The last thing we need is Baby Quin’s first word being buggered. Eh, but Future Quin’s first word was worse. That’s what happens when Victor raises you, I suppose.”
You actually have two hoomin bwuddahs named Quin. A big one, and a small one. The big one is from the fyoo-chuw. That means, as your daddeh explained, that he’s from many forevers from now. He came back to now with something called a time masheen, because things were really bad in the fyoo-chuw.
You didn’t know that was was possible.
Big Quin lives down-staiws now, with his fluffy, who is the fyoo-chuw Marley. And is also a neff-uh-wim.
You’re not sure what that means either, but apparently that fyoo-chuw Marley went forever sleepies and came back with an-guw powahs.
You didn’t know that was possible either.
All in all, you’re a much happier fluffy than you thought you’d be.
You have a loving hoomin daddeh and mummah, and lots of fluffy friends.
Plus, you get to see your fluffy daddeh and mummah all the time. They’re still at the Fown-day-shun. All you have to do is ask your hoomin daddeh and mummah.
Your bwuddahs and sissies all have hoomin daddehs and mummahs nearby, so you see them around all the time too.
Just last week, which you know is seven bwite times, you ran into your bwuddah Cadbury at the pawk, with his hoomin daddeh.
You know some fluffies don’t like brown fluffies like Cadbury. But he’s your bwuddah!
Plus, you know quite a few brown fluffies who are good, upstanding fluffies.
Like Scarface. He says a lot of bad wowdsies for a fluffy, but he isn’t a bad fluffy.
So you don’t care what color a fluffy is, as long as they’re nice.
Even Slayer is nice, and he’s a hawf-dee-mun!
He only gives bad special huggies to munstahs these bwite times.
Right, now, you’re at the day-cawe with your fluffy pals.
Your daddeh says it’s called the Happy Fluffy Daycare, and you think it lives up to the name.
You feel like a happy fluffy. In fact, you can’t see a frown anywhere in the woom.
You and Marley are stacking blockies together.
“Dis am nice, Wawio. Mawwey nu haf bin pway-yin wif bwockies a wot wate-wy. But daddeh say dat Mawwey gutta du now-maw fings. Uddawise, mebbeh Mawwey fow-git dat Mawwey am fwuffy.”
“Dat am im-pow-tunt nao dat Mawwey can tuwn intu a hoomin. Wah.”
“Twoo dat.”
Caelum waddles over.
“Caiwum stiww nu am yoost tu dat.”
Marley gives his special friend a reassuring smile.
“Mawwey nu am gunna du dat hewe, Caiwum. Nu powahs, unwess dey nee-ded.”
THUD
Another fluffy, chasing a baww, runs into a wall and starts crying.
Marley sighs.
“Wike nao. Howd awn, Mawwey gutta deaw wif dis.”
So Marley waddles over to the crying fluffy, looking her up and down.
“Am jus a bwoos. Nu woh-wee.”
Marley holds up a hoofsie to the owwie, and his hoofsie starts glowing.
Then the owwie goes away.
“Dewe, dewe. Be mowe cawe-fuw nex time, otay?”
“Otay, Mawwey. Fank yu.”
“It am wut Mawwey du.”
Marley hugs the fluffy, and then she goes back to playing with the baww.
Mistah Ghadzi walks in. He’s one of the nice hoomins working here. Well, he’s actually not a hoomin, he’s a dowf. Which is like a short hoomin.
“Everything alright, guys? I heard crying.”
Marley looks up at mistah Ghadzi. It isn’t a long way up.
“A fwuffy nu wuz wookin whewe fwuffy wuz guin, Gad-zee. But Mawwey tuk cawe of it. Jus a bwoos.”
“Nice one, Marley. It’s good to have you around.”
You nod.
“Mawwey am wike da coow-est big bwuddah.”
Marley actually blushes a bit when you say that.
As mistah Ghadzi leaves, Marley waddles back over to you, Caelum and the blockies.
“Nao… whewe wuz we, Wawio? Caiwum, yu wan in awn dis?”
“Suwe!”