Bowsette’s Princes Lessons: Chapter IV: A Trip Down Memory Lane

 Bowsette’s Princes Lessons: 

Chapter IV: A Trip Down Memory Lane

By Yu May

Peach felt a pang of remorse as she closed the door to her bed chamber. All she needed now was a good night’s sleep, then she’d be able to tackle the Bowser dilemma in the morning. But to Peach’s surprise, she found Princess Daisy on her 4-poster bed, lying on her stomach, kicking her feet behind her, and humming as she wrote in a journal. With a start, Daisy slapped the journal shut. “Peach? What are you doing here? I thought you and Mario would be…you know, taking one of your long, moonlit walks!”

Peach’s mouth hung open. “Daisy? This is my bedroom! What are you doing here?”

Daisy hopped out of Peach’s bed, and not-so-subtly clicked a small padlock that sealed her diary shut behind her back. “Don’t you remember? We’re having our slumber party tonight! To celebrate surviving our last adventure! Check it! Can you believe Luigi was going to throw this out? It’s a perfectly good shirt!” Daisy held out her hands to present her sleep wear. 

Peach furrowed her brow as she took in the sight of Daisy before her. In contrast to Peach, who always wore either a thin nightie or elegant woolen nightgown to bed, Daisy preferred to wear sweatpants and old t-shirts. Tonight, Daisy had yellow-orange yoga shorts with a white floral pattern, and a baggy forest-green t-shirt: which bore an emblem of Luigi on the front, and the words “Year of Luigi: 2013” on the back. 

Looking misty-eyed, Daisy gave the shirt a sniff. “Mmm! It smells like Luigi! Salty, but refined!”

Peach snickered. “Of course, our sleepover! I remember now! With all the chaos today, it completely slipped my mind. Feels like we’ve been running non-stop for a week. But Daisy, aren’t you too…tired?”

Peach paused as she noticed Daisy lowering her pajama bottoms and examining her bare behind in Peach’s bedroom mirror. Daisy whistled as she looked over the marks left by the ruler. “Phew! I’d barely recovered from that caning Toadsworth gave us yesterday for going absent without leave, only to have that warrior librarian of yours take her ruler to me! How are your battle-scars looking, Peach? I have a feeling Toadsworth went way harder on you, which sucks because it’s kinda my fault we ran away in the first place. Then again, my dad’s totally going to tan my hide when I get home for causing so much trouble, so in the end it probably all balances out!”

Peach paled and covered her bottom. She’d forgotten all about the caning until Daisy had so helpfully reminded her. Beneath her pink gown, the mottled cane marks still twinged slightly whenever she bent over. “I think they’ve mostly healed by now.”

Daisy glanced back at her own backside in the mirror. The tan-lines left by their time baking in the Dry Dry Desert sun were clearly visible. “Really? Wanna compare them to mine?”

Peach’s face went straight from pale-moon white to blood-moon red at the thought of baring her bottom for inspection. “No, thank you, Daisy! I’d rather get dressed…in private?”

Daisy pondered this strange request, then pulled up her shorts with a nod. “Gotcha! Hey, remember doing calisthenics at Princess Academy? You used to get super shy in the girls’ locker room! Well, don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one sneaks up on you! Nobody’s snapping your butt with a wet towel on my watch!”

Peach sighed. “...Thank you, Daisy.” She thought about asking Daisy to leave the room entirely, but decided it would be easier and less embarrassing to just get dressed quickly rather than try to spell everything out. At Princess Academy, the time-honored tradition of “encouraging” classmates with a towel snap to the heinie had been torture for Peach, whereas Daisy had been one of the most ferocious towel-snappers. When Peach had asked Daisy, politely, to stop towel-whipping her, Daisy had not only instantly agreed, she’d also made a solemn, sacred vow to watch Peach’s back in the locker room, for all time. 

Peach quickly donned her nightie behind her decorative dressing screen, and couldn’t resist a quick peek at her peach-shaped posterior. Sure enough, the old cane marks from yesterday had faded to a mottled pink. Daisy whispered urgently from the other side of the screen. “Peach! Coast is clear! Your butt’s safe!”

Peach emerged to find Daisy scouring the room, darting from the stained-glass windows to the door in search of towel-wielding assassins. Peach couldn’t help but smile. “Daisy, I’m completely bushed! Why don’t we just turn in for the night?”

“Yeah, good idea! I have so much I want to talk about, but we really need to get to…bed?” As Daisy uttered the last word, she spotted her locked diary laying on the bed, and dove to scoop it up and “hide” it in the dressing table. “We’ll talk about girl stuff tomorrow night!”

Relieved, Peach yawned, dimmed the lights, and snuggled under the covers. “Thanks, Daisy! We’ll deal with the Bowser problem tomorrow morning when we’re refreshed.”

Just as she was about to lay down to rest, Daisy shot up from her pillow. “Oh? I know what to do about Bowser, that’s easy! I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Peach snapped awake. “What? You know what to do with Bowser?”

Daisy rolled her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. “Dur-hur! Think about it! What happens to you and me when we do something bad?”

Peach was struggling to keep up, but Daisy didn’t wait for an answer for her rhetorical question. “We get spanked, of course! And Bowser is a bad, bad girl, right? Or, rather, a bad, bad turtle man trapped in the body of a bad, bad girl!”

Peach was lost. “So…the plan is?”

Daisy grinned like an evil clown. “It’s simple! We spank the bad man!”

“Daisy, Bowser is a megalomaniacal tyrant. I don’t think you can fix something like that with a little spanking.”

“Of course not! He needs lots and lots of spanking, to make up for lost time. But only when he deserves it! We don’t want to be needlessly cruel!”

Peach groaned. “Daisy, that just won’t work. People don’t just magically change their nature because you start hitting them!”

Daisy threw off her covers and pantomimed the act of spanking herself. “But our dads never, ever hit us! They spank us! It’s completely different! They only spank us because they love us! And why not? It works, doesn't it! Hasn’t your dad taught you to be a better princess by spanking you?”

Peach felt her stomach clench. The truth was she had only been spanked a few times in her entire life. It was true that her father had spanked her himself a few times when she was very young, but as he started to get older, he had passed that duty on to Toadsworth, who had been responsible for Peach’s education and discipline since she was old enough to enter Princess Academy. Generally, Peach liked to forget about her spankings as soon as they were over, but each one was painfully memorable. Daisy, in contrast, had been spanked rather frequently by both her parents. And ever since both princesses were punished together for running away, Daisy had been all too eager to discuss her spankings in detail.

As Peach considered her last painful experience with the cane, she had to admit it had taught her a lesson. “Well, I suppose it works for us, but that doesn’t mean it will work on Bowser. He has to want to do better.”

Daisy paused in the middle of delivering her pretend spanking, her hand held high. “...Oh, now that you mention it, that does throw a hitch into the plan. Come to think of it, Dad never spanks me without talking to me about what I did first. He always says a spanking won’t do me any good if I’m not sorry and try to do better. Sorry, Peach, guess it was a dumb idea!”

Peach had a light bulb appear over her head, and pressed her index finger to her lips delicately. “No, Daisy…It’s not a dumb idea at all! It just needs a little…refinement!”

…

Paralyzed, Bowser trembled furtively in his sleep. He was sitting in the divorce court, wearing his sharpest 3-piece suit. His twin brother, Morton C. Koopa, adjusted his glasses. Except for his blue hair and sea green shell, Morton was the spitting image of Bowser. “Don’t worry, Big B. Even if they rule against us, we’ll have grounds for an appeal.”

“Appeal? What’s that mean? There’s nothing appealing about this place!” Bowser glanced around the courtroom, his head throbbing. Then he spotted her. His ex-wife, Claudia Koopa, sobbing crocodile tears into a handkerchief, surrounded by a crack team of greasy, big-shot lawyers, paid for by King Wart, her new beau. 

Between the two legal teams, Claudia and Bowser’s first and only egg sat in a specially prepared incubator, also dressed in a suit and a tie.

The legally-blind Judge Koopa missed his gavel a few times as he slammed down his hammer, his powdered white wig in danger of flopping off his bald head. “This court finds that all lands and properties of the Koopa Kingdom shall be evenly divided between the two parties…”

Bowser wiped the sweat from his brow. That was better than he was expecting.

“As for the matter of child custody, this court believes that mother and father should continue to share custody until such time as Koopa Child Protective Services can complete its investigation.”

Bowser knocked over his chair as he stood. “No! What is there to investigate? Haven’t you already seen more than enough evidence?”

As she pretended to weep, Claudia Koopa flashed Bowser a wicked smile, so that only he could see. “Justice is done!” she cooed.

“We’ll appeal immediately!” squeaked one of her lawyers, before she elbowed him in the ribs.

With a roar, Bowser slammed his fist into the wooden table, smashing it. “No! She can’t be trusted to care for that egg! She told me herself–she doesn’t even want the baby–that she’s only doing this to hurt me!”

Morton shook as his legal documents were sent flying. “Big B, please! You have to keep a cool head! It’s your only chance to win the court over!”

But before he could incinerate the courtroom, Bowser became aware of himself, outside of himself. He was weak, and small, and his hands were hideous and pale, with too many fingers. The old Bowser stood meekly in the courtroom, as his precious child was carted away from him.

“No,” squealed Bowser, but he could only hear a frail woman’s voice. “Don’t you know what’s going to happen next? Do something! Fight!”

Morton was weeping. “I’m sorry, Big B! I’m so, so sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Bowser turned on Morton, ready to heap abuse on him, but something was wrong. Morton was small now, wearing a bib. “It’s my fault, Big B! I b’woke it! He’s coming!”

Bowser looked around. It was his childhood nursery. “Who’s coming?”

Morton crawled under the crib, hiding in the shadows. “...The monster! The Great Demon King!”

A hideous roar shook the castle. A demonic voice bellowed, “Who did it? Where’s that little shit?”

Then Bowser remembered. This was the old nightmare. Always the same. He knew there was no escape from the Great Demon King. Rushing to lock the door, he spoke the same words he always did. “Stay under the crib, Morton!”

The monster slammed against the door. “Lemme’ in! Let me in, you little monster! I’m gonna’ roast you over a slow fire!”

Pointlessly, Bowser pressed his weight against the nursery door. But he was too small! He was too weak!

Then, something interrupted the flow of the old nightmare. A woman’s voice, low and far away. “...Poor, sweet baby. I had no idea. You’ve been fighting so hard, trying to be so strong, for oh, so long…”

Bowser felt the door splinter and shatter as the Great Demon King kicked it down, the way it always happened, but this time it was in slow motion. “Mommy? Is that you?”

The woman held out her arms, welcoming him to her bosom. “Come to me, baby. I’ll keep you safe forever!”

Bowser toddled to her, wanting to be lost in her embrace, wanting to disappear from the nursery. But something stopped him. In the midst of the dream, he became lucid. “Wait, this never happens in the dream! You’re not my mommy!”

The blond woman smiled wide, revealing her pointed teeth. “Please, let me help you! Let me take you away from this nightmare!”

But Bowser turned away from her to look for Morton, shivering under the crib. The Great Demon King was coming. “No! I’m the one who broke it! It was me!”

As the door smashed open, Bowser knew there was no escape. There could never be an escape.

It was his first, eternal memory: fear, followed by pain.

…

Bowser awoke with a gasp, still shivering in his cot. Over the years, he’d taught himself to awaken on command, when the old nightmare haunted him. Rubbing his head, he struggled to get his bearings. Strangely, he felt completely rested. In fact, that had been one of the best night’s sleep he’d enjoyed in his entire life!

“Rise and grind!” roared Bowser as he hopped to his feet. Only when he caught sight of his bare, lily white boobs and mussy blond hair in the mirror did he recall his predicament. “Ooo boy! It’s a wee bit nipply out here! I’d breast put a shirt on!

Picking up the black ballroom gown he wore yesterday, Bowser sniffed it, shrugged, and put it on again. Then he did a double-take and examined the mirror again. His hair was blood red, and his skin tanned to bronze. That was what they were supposed to be, right? Yeah! Just like he remembered from last night! “Wait! Got to keep a clear head! My brilliant surprise attack on Castle Toadstool failed, through no fault of my own. Then the Crown of Queen Toadstool turned me into a woman…and Peach put me in the friend-zone! And then…”  

Bowser approached the broken mirror hesitantly, waiting for his reflection to do something crazy. “Hello? Spooky ghost babe? Queen Toadstool? …Uh, Bowsette? Yoo hoo!” 

Bowser tapped the crown on his head, expecting it to work like a microphone. “Is this thing on?”

He shook his head. “Bah! That part was just a dream! I was overly distraught by Peachy’s cold, heartless betrayal of my affections! How could she treat me that way? After all we’ve been through together!”

Bowser examined his cell, then drummed his fingers together. He was getting used to having more manual dexterity. “Then again, she’s young and foolish. I’ll just give her the cold shoulder. Sooner or later, she’ll see how wrong she was and come crawling back to me on bended knee! It’s not like she has any better options!” 

Bowser flexed his biceps and kissed them, slightly disappointed to find them so diminished in his feminine form. “So, all I’ve got to do is keep a clear head and wait for my chance to–”

Outside his cell, the door to the former-dungeon/refurbished-guest-bedroom creaked open. Toadette appeared carrying a tray of steaming pancakes drizzled with honey syrup, a protein-rich Shroom Shake, and a kettle of Koopa Tea. “Breakfast is served, King Bowser!”

Bowser was salivating as he caught the aroma, floating on air towards the meal, before his face bonked into the iron bars. “Oh! Hand it over, now!”

Toadette started to obey, before she caught herself. “I’m sorry, your Majesty. Please sit on your cot while I pass the meal through the food port.” 

Toadette gestured to a bell hanging behind a painted yellow line that indicated the safe zone. “When I ring the bell, you may collect your tray!”

Smoke billowed from Bowser’s nostrils. “And what if I refuse?”

Toadette pressed her feet together. “In that case, I can’t serve you your breakfast. I’m sorry, your Majesty, but those are my orders from Captain Toad.”

Bowser’s hunger won over his desire to get his way. “Fine! Be that way!”

After Toadette placed the tray in Bowser’s cell and rang the bell, Bowser sprang hungrily to snatch up his breakfast. But before he could chow down, he sensed the presence of another person in the room. “Who’s there? Come out, you sneak!”

A toad with red spots emerged from the shadows in the corner of the cell. He had an unremarkable face, like most toads, but his eyes were sharp and he wore a red scarf that bore a symbol of his rank. “Well done, Toadette. I knew I could count on you!” 

Toadette failed to hide her look of awe, her twin toad-tails bouncing. “Captain Toad! You were watching me?”

“No. I was watching…him!” Captain Toad placed a teasing emphasis on the last word, before dismissing Toadette.

Bowser narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Standing firmly on the yellow safety line, Captain Toad crossed his arms. “We’ve met before.”

Bowser grinned wickedly, then started stuffing his face, inhaling an entire pancake in one bite. “Gee, you must not have made much of an impression!”

Captain Toad refused to dignify Bowser’s teasing with a response.

After guzzling the Shroom Shake, Bowser remembered something. “Hang on! Aren’t you that schmuck who likes to moonlight as a treasure hunter?”

“Only when I’m not on duty.”

A few crumbs of pancake flew from Bowser’s mouth as he guffawed. “Yeah! And you’re the toad who helped Mario take out that chump King Wart!”

“You seem to know a lot about me. Guess I made an impression after all!”

“Oh, I always keep close tabs on my Peachy-Poo-Koo! You can’t be too careful these days. My Lakitu and Shy Guy spies put you fungi to shame! It was hilarious watching you and that fat frog Wart going at each other. I didn’t know who to root for!”

“Well, we got King Wart in the end. And now we got you!”

Bowser paused, half a pancake hanging from his mouth. “Mwahfff’dah?”

Realizing that talking with his mouth full was spoiling the effect, he threw back his head and downed the rest of the pancake in a single chomp. “What’s that? I can’t hear you so good! Step a little closer and say that again!”

Captain Toad shook his head. “Nice try! But rules are rules. We’ve got to set a good example for Toadette!”

Bowser took a delicate sip of tea. It was rich and well brewed. “Yes. How else are you supposed to reduce incompetence without setting an example of good leadership? Also, I never fail to make an example out of someone who displeases me!”

Captain Toad didn’t reply. His toe crept over the safety line, but he didn’t cross it. Satisfied, Bowser drank the rest of his tea in silence. 

A soft voice at the back of his head whispered: “Mario, Luigi, and this guy. Got to keep both eyes open when they’re around.”

…

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Peach?” asked Luigi, holding a gloved hand against his lip. He had never forgotten the time Bowser had plucked out the hairs of his mustache, one at a time.

Before Peach could answer, Daisy pulled both Peach and Luigi into a half-hug, and whispered conspiratorially, “Of course she’s sure this is a good idea. After all, I came up with it, and Peach refined it, so it’s basically The Number One Good Idea…Squared!”

Luigi did some quick math in his head. “...But, Daisy, isn’t the square of one still just…one?”

Daisy’s mouth hung open. “Woah. That sounded pretty deep, Luigi.”

Mario failed to hide his scoff behind his mustache. 

Peach had a feeling she knew what was troubling him. “Mario, something is on your mind. What is it?”

Realizing he’d let Peach read him like an open book (again), Mario’s cheeks flushed as red as his hat. “You’re the princess, Princess! Bowser is your prisoner, so it’s your decision! I’m here to help, not argue.”

Peach nodded. “I appreciate your loyalty, Mario, but I also want to hear your counsel. What is that lovely phrase you mentioned, about the laws of your home country of Brooklyn? 

Ah yes, you call it your ‘First Amendment Rights’?” 

Mario snorted. “For the last time, Princess: Brooklyn is my neighborhood, New York is my city, and America is my country.”

“But I thought New York was a sovereign state, and America was a continent?”

Mario forgot to look serious and stoic. “It is…but…Mama mia! I meant to say ‘New York City.’ New York City is the city! New York is the state! And all fifty states together make the United States of America, and…” Mario paused his tirade as he noticed Peach’s subtle smile, “...and you didn’t forget any of that. You’re just teasing me!”

“Only a little, but I meant what I said about your ‘First Amendment.’ We may not have your Constitution or Bill of Rights in the Mushroom Kingdom, but we most certainly have Freedom of Speech. Please, speak your mind, Mario. If you think this is a bad idea, I won’t be offended.”

Mario sighed, but with more relief than exasperation. “Suit yourself! In that case, I think it’s a lousy idea! I don’t see what letting Bowser out of that cell is supposed to accomplish! He’s just going to use this as an opportunity to look for an escape. So I guess it’s up to me to watch him like a hawk. And when Bowser inevitably makes a break for it, you can count on me and Luigi to take him down, again, and haul him back to his cell, again!”

Peach nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mario. I have complete faith that you and Luigi can handle Bowser.”

Luigi’s chest swelled. “Yeah! You can count on the Mario Brothers to take on any job!”

Daisy basked in the radiant glow of Luigi’s glory. “Wow! He’s such a go-getter!” she thought.

Peach held her trembling hand firm as she opened the door that led to Bowser’s dungeon cell/guest bedroom.

The stone carving above the door read: “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” Peach had hung a poster with the words “Live, Laugh, Love” in pink letters, with a little heart dotting the letter “i,” to cover up the words: “Abandon hope.” 

…

Bowser’s head snapped up as the door to the dungeon creaked open, then cursed as he realized he’d forgotten the death-stare contest with Captain Toad. 

Toadette bowed demurely. “Good morning, Princess!”

At the sight of Princess Peach, Bowser almost leapt to his feet to recite one of his 154 original love sonnets. But then he remembered that he was supposed to be giving Peach the cold shoulder, and growled. “What do you want?”

Peach’s voice cracked with fear, before she forced herself to sound casual. “Bowser! Ahem! I thought I’d invite you to join Princess Daisy and me for our morning jog!”

As Bowser looked over Peach, he noticed to his delight that she was wearing her cute, little tennis uniform! Bowser choked with excitement, before he forced himself to sound casual. “You’re inviting me on a stroll? Oh, Poochie! I knew you really…uh, were a big nerd! Jogging? C’mon! Anything that isn’t hardcore bodybuilding is a waste of my time!” Bowser tried to make his pecs jiggle, which always impressed the ladies, before remembering he had breasts now.

Mario felt his temper rise, but kept his peace. Of course Bowser wasn’t going to cooperate! Hopefully Peach would realize this was a waste of her time.

Then, to the complete shock of both Mario and Bowser, Peach shrugged and turned daintily towards the door. “Oh well, then I apologize for wasting your time!”

“Wait!” roared Bowser, sending the scraps of his breakfast flying as he nearly tripped over the food tray. Pressing his delicate, tan cheeks between the cold bars of his cell, Bowser’s voice became a pitched wail, “Don’t leave me!”  

As Peach turned to look coyly over her shoulder, Mario finally understood her game. “She’s got Bowser wrapped around her little finger!” he thought.

Bowser fumed as he realized he’d lost his cool. “Humph! As if you weren’t just toying with me! You’ve got a sick sense of humor, Peach!”

“It wasn’t a joke, Bowser. It’s my tradition to invite all visiting princesses to join my morning Princess Academy exercises. You’re a royal guest, and given your…situation, I thought it was only fair to offer you the opportunity to join us…as a fellow princess!” 

Bowser reeled his head back and roared. He wanted to aim a blast of his fiery dragon breath right at Peach’s perfect peach-shaped posterior, but could only manage a small puff of smoke. “Bah! You are making fun of me! I’m not a princess! I’m a super-macho-manly-man turtle king!” 

Peach cooed softly as she held a dainty finger to her luscious lips. “Ooh! Did I offend you? I’m so sorry! We respect that you are still Bowser, King of the Koopas…on the inside!” 

It occurred to Mario that Peach was being entirely sincere, but there was just enough of a teasing hint to her voice to reel Bowser in.

“And don’t you forget it! I’m dangerous! The second you let me out of this prison, I’m gonna–” Bowser choked as he tried to force himself to threaten Peach. He had planned to promise her a good spanking. (All women need a good spanking from time to time, after all!) 

Then Bowser thought of all his favorite bullying comments he liked to use on his underlings, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter them. Peach was too pure, too wonderful to threaten. 

In Bowser’s long career as a kidnapper, not once had he ever imagined himself doing Peach the slightest harm. Not until yesterday, at least: the moment she’d put him in the friend zone.

As Bowser felt both his love for Peach, and his new-found hatred for Peach, he willed himself to hold his tongue, then seated himself on the floor.

As the silence dragged on, Peach swallowed a lump in her throat. “Oh no! I overplayed my hand!” she fumed, wishing she could properly kick herself. Taking a deep breath, Peach turned back to face Bowser. “That room doesn’t have to be a prison, Bowser. It was one, once, but I converted it into a guest bedroom.” 

Bowser forgot his resolve to keep silent. “Of course! And I’m not your prisoner! I’m your honored ‘guest!’ Spare me the niceties!”

Peach knelt to the dusty stone floor to speak with him at eye-level. “Haven’t I been your ‘guest’ many times over the years?”

“That was different! I treated you like a princess!”

“And I want to return the favor. That’s why I invited you to our Princess Academy exercises. Of course, you don’t have to be a princess to join Daisy and me. Mario and Luigi are joining us this morning. Toadette? Captain Toad? You’re both invited as well!”

Toadette gasped with excitement, before shuffling her feet. “Me? Participate in Princess Academy exercises? …But I’d just slow you down!”

Captain Toad shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short, Toadette. I’ve seen your high scores on the obstacle course. You could give the royal toad guard a run for their money!”

Toadette blushed. “A girl has to watch her figure. Sure, I like to get a little exercise, but I’m no adventurer.”

Bowser pouted and stared at a crack on the ceiling. Peach sensed that she was losing his interest. “Won’t you join me, Toadette? I’d like to see if I can break Mario’s record!”

Bowser’s ear twitched. “You’ve got Mario playing these pretty, pretty princess games? Ha! That’s adorable!”

To Peach’s relief, Mario kept his cool, but she saw his eyes dart to meet hers, questioningly. She knew what he was thinking: “Where are you going with this, Princess?”

Peach tittered. “It’s actually a challenging obstacle course. Just because Daisy and I use it for our morning exercise routine from Princess Academy, that doesn’t mean it’s only for girls! In fact, I’ve dubbed it ‘The Mario Maker’ in honor of the Mushroom Kingdom’s strongest champions: the Mario Brothers!”

“Humph!” Bowser folded his arms. He was tempted to plead for a chance to compete, but a small, soft voice at the back of his mind urged him to be cautious. “Be careful! Peach is up to something!” whispered the voice.

Now that Bowser had decided to temporarily break off his engagement to Peach, he was starting to see her in a new light. 

Since Peach was no longer his bride-to-be, it occurred to Bowser that behind the pretty face, Peach had a devious mind. 

And now that Peach was his enemy, Bowser had the strange sense that Peach was…a real person. 

Desperate to reel Bowser in, Peach took a gamble. Stepping past the yellow safety line, Peach approached the iron bars and held out her hand. Mario, Luigi, Princess Daisy, Captain Toad, and Toadette all stiffened as Peach inched closer, within Bowser’s reach. Mario would have leapt between her and the cell if Peach hadn’t shaken her head slightly as a signal to wait. “Won’t you join us, Bowser? I really do want to be friends!”

Bowser hid his laughter. How could he stay mad at Peach? She was so adorably stupid. Despite everything, she was still ready to trust him? Accepting her hand, Bowser gripped it firmly, relishing the moment of tension and Mario’s look of silent rage, before shaking Peach’s hand daintily. “Why not? I’ll show you how a real man handles an obstacle course!”

Peach nodded as she returned the hand shake. “But you’ll have to promise, on your word as…a man, that you won’t try to escape!”

Bowser sneered, then crossed his fingers behind his back. “You have my word as a man! I won’t try to escape!” 

“After all,” whispered the small, soft voice at the back of his head, “at the moment, you’re not a man!” 

[End of Chapter IV]