You were hard at work in the local garages, tuning up karts, fixing exhaust pipes, sealing fuel pipe leaks, and buffing the bike’s paint jobs. It was a nice job, especially now that the karting tournament has gone world wide. You were just working on the brakes of a kart when somone pulls into the shop and parks their kart.

It was a fat, small man that looked like a twisted version of Mario. His clothes yellow and purple, his nose ping, his moustache pointy, his shoes green and upturned, his eyes had blue at the side of his eyes, his hat beared a W, and his breath smelt of garlic. This is clearly Wario, the backwards version of Mario. He smirked and he got out of the kart, his stomach stuck behind the wheel before popping out.

“You, Mechanic man! This car is too slow for my style, and the seats almost collapsed, the chassis also scrapes across the road. Fix it.”